Queer as Folk New York
by Annjeela
Summary: Post 513. Brian follows Justin to New York. Thanks to Spontaneity and Maipigen for beta work. Remember reviews keep the plot bunnies coming. Sorry for the slow update, my muse is having a hard time.
1. Chapter 1 Brian Arrives

**Disclaimer: **Queer as Folk belongs, in its entirety, to Showtime and Cowlip.

**Author's Note: **This is my first story ever. Reviews, critiques etc. would be most welcome and encouraging. Special thanks to Spontaneity who is Beta reading this for me and is really improving the story.

This story is intended to feel like the show. Each chapter is a scene and none are written from a single POV. I'll keep going until I run out of plot bunnies or you stop reading/reviewing.

Feel free to write your own stories around it - especially POVs. I'd love to look at the scenes from a different point of view. I've already written one POV from an original character. All I ask is that you start the title with QAF NY so I can spot them and don't go ahead in time from where I am because I have plans. Other than that, have fun.

* * *

**Chapter 1 – Brian Arrives in New York**

He was changing.

It surprised the hell out of him.

As the limousine wound through the narrow streets of New York, Brian wondered if Justin would like the new him. A year ago, it wouldn't even have occurred to him to worry about that, certainly not to be nervous about it. But – he was changing.

After two months, he had finally lined up some possible New York contracts for Kinnetics. The changes had started earlier, though, on the day of the bombing. Brian's eyes closed with the intensity of the memory. He had fallen apart. When he couldn't find Justin, he had simply fallen apart. His talent for seeing through the lies people told themselves, for cutting through the bullshit, had been applied to himself that day. Denial became impossible. He loved Justin Taylor. And with that realization, he had started to change.

Brian thought back to other, similar events in his life. The day he realized he could care about someone else – and went to Michael Novotny's rescue. The day he realized he didn't care who knew he was gay – and joined his coach in the shower. The day he realized that people cause their own pain – and cut his parents out of his life. The day he realized he loved Justin Taylor – and went overboard. Totally.

Christ! Commitment, country home, cuddling and most surprising of all, monogamy.

Brian winced at the memory. Justin had been right. Nobody changes that much, that fast. And yet - he was changing. You couldn't look at yourself that clearly and not change. That's why he avoided looking most of the time. He liked his life. Too much self-analysis just fucked things up. On the other hand, denying he loved Justin had almost fucked it up more.

Since Justin had left two months ago, Brian had been working out how Brian Kinney acted if he's in love. After the engagement, Justin hadn't wanted the man Brian tried to be. Justin knew him well enough to see through any Stepford fag crap, giving up pieces of himself just to make Justin happy. That's not love, that's sacrifice. Brian smiled at the memory.

Some of the choices were easy. He wanted to spend more time with Justin. He didn't care about being the hottest stud on Liberty Avenue anymore. He wanted to shift his business to New York. Running Kinnetics had gotten too easy. Although he'd never admit it out loud, he wanted to cuddle. He could say "I love you".

Other choices were harder. Did he still want to sleep around? Given the last two months, Brian knew the answer was 'a lot less than he used to', but saying 'never again' felt like sacrifice. He and Justin would have to figure out some new rules.

Did he want to live at the country house he'd bought? Definitely not. Brian loved the city – the noise, the people. The thought of hearing cows in the distance made him want to puke. What if he stepped in something? He'd already put the house up for sale.

After two months working away at the problem, Brian was starting to figure out who he was, but would Justin want the new him? As the limousine pulled up in front of a large, red brick townhouse Brian knew it was worth a few nerves.


	2. Chapter 2 Saying Hello

**Chapter 2 – Saying Hello  
**

As the limousine pulled up, Brian grabbed his suitcase and walked to the front of the house, hitting the doorbell longer than was polite before he collected himself and took his finger off the buzzer.

The door was opened by a 6' tall, brunet with perfect features. Innocent, golden brown eyes looked out from the face of a young Galahad. Brian's mind instantly categorized him as "Not gay."

The younger man smiled "You must be Brian - you look just like Justin's sketches. Justin's dying to see you. I'm Eric. He warned us that the two of you will vanish for most of the weekend. " The smile turned to a grin. "Just thought you'd like to know what the plan is."

Brian felt the nerves settle "I've always liked how Justin thinks."

Brian looked past Eric down the narrow hallway. A painting of Justin's hung on the wall, a stark contrast to the faded wallpaper and frayed carpet. A staircase led the way upstairs on the left side of the hall. A stunning, red-haired woman came around the corner into the entryway – a pint-sized Titania in shorts and a halter. 'Hi, I'm Ari, Justin's other roommate."

Brian response of 'Pleased to meet…' broke off when Justin appeared at the top of the stairs. He had cut his hair short again. He had the look of a fallen angel, a bright splendor, but one that had seen too much to ever be innocent again. Brian's suitcase dropped to the floor, forgotten, as Justin's smile lit up his face.

Brian moved to the bottom of the staircase as Justin came to the last step and spoke gently. 'Hey, Sunshine. Long time no see.'

Justin didn't bother to respond. His hand came up, grabbed Brian at the neck and pulled him forward for a kiss. After a moment, Brian reached up to hold Justin in place. The kiss became aggressive, sensual, sexual. Endless.

Eric started to speak, to remind them that they had an audience, but Ari silenced him with a look. As she watched, Brian reached up and started to unbutton Justin's shirt. Brian pulled too hard and the blue shirt ripped apart, buttons flying. Justin gasped. Brian began kissing down the chest while Justin's fingers threaded into Brian's hair - holding him in place. Justin's head went back and his breath started to shorten. Brian's control shattered. His breath rasped as he captured, then devoured Justin's mouth. His hands moved to the front of Justin's jeans.

The sound of the snap startled Eric into action "Hey guys. Guys! Take it upstairs why don't you?" Justin looked at Eric without focusing for a minute then his eyes cleared. "Shit. Brian, come on." He grabbed Brian's hand and led him upstairs. The sound of masculine laughter carried down the stairs to the pair standing stunned in the hallway.

"Jesus," said Eric with a small shake of his head "Justin wasn't kidding when he said we wouldn't see much of them this weekend. You okay?"

Ari was staring at a small button near her feet. It had spun off of Justin's shirt. "No, I am definitely not okay." Ari looked Eric straight in the eye. "Couldn't you feel the heat pouring off them?"

"It was hard to miss. Why? Did it bother you, too?" Eric shot back with a grin.

Ari took a deep breath for patience and took a step toward Eric. "Bother's not the right word for what it did to me." She took another step.

"Huh? Oh" Eric's face flushed. "I see, I think. Um, I've got to go to the store to get something for supper" he stammered a bit as he reached backward to the doorknob. "Be back soon."

Ari watched in disbelief as he ran out the door. Damn. He was always running away. She started laughing. At least she had the answer to her biggest question. Eric had to be gay.

* * *

Upstairs, in the smallest bedroom, Justin was frantic. Lying on the bed, he could feel his body tensing as Brian kissed his way down his torso, touched his midriff and kept going. Justin shuddered as Brian's mouth closed around him. _God_, Justin thought, _how could I have gone two months without touching this man?_ His hands reached up, grasping the wrought iron headboard on the bed, arching his back to get closer to Brian.

Brian felt Justin's body shift towards him, moving in time with the strokes of his mouth. Brian pulled his head up. He heard a small, anxious groan and smiled slightly.

Justin cried out as he felt Brian drive in. Brian paused, waiting. A moment later, Brian started to move, slowly at first, then faster. Tension started to build. Sweat glistened. Justin stared at Brian's face, breathing in time with the movement. Justin's eyes closed, his breath stopped and the orgasm ripped through him.

Brian cried out and collapsed on top of Justin, burying his face in the side of Justin's neck, breathing in his scent. Brian sighed "I love you." Justin stilled for a moment, then relaxed back into the bed, running his hand up and down Brian's back, maintaining contact. "I love you, too." Justin whispered.

Eventually, a timeless moment later, Brian moved to the side and leaned up on his elbow to look down at Justin. An amused look came into Brian's eyes as he remembered the scene at the bottom of the stairs. He started to laugh. "I think we shocked Ari."

Justin's head tilted slightly as he thought back. "Nah, she's unflappable. It's Eric who's going to feel awkward." He shook his head in a cross between concern and amusement.

"You're kidding, right?"

"When dealing with Ari, do not be deceived by appearances. You'll see what I mean when you get to know her. Eric's the small-town boy."

Brian forgot about the roommates as he leaned in to kiss the hollow of Justin's neck. "You know, I have plans. Lots of plans." Brian's hands started to move over Justin's torso – featherlike touches that caused Justin's skin to shudder in anticipation. Justin grabbed Brian's hands and said "My turn," as he pushed Brian down. Justin's mouth went to work.

Brian gasped softly "Okay, we'll do it your way this time. Just remember - my turn next."

* * *

Several turns later, Brian lay on his back sleeping while Justin lay across his chest, listening to Brian's heartbeat. Brian snapped suddenly awake, his whole body tensing.

Justin's head came up, "Bri, is something wrong?"

Brian closed his eyes for a moment as he forced himself to relax. "Nothing. It's nothing."

"It felt like something."

"It was nothing. Just a bad dream. My turn now," Brian reached for Justin, wanting to chase the nightmare away.

"No. Wait a sec, Brian, just wait. I want to talk to you – about our future."

* * *

_*A/N There is a companion story telling this scene from Eric's POV. It's titled "QAF NY Confused". _


	3. Chapter 3 New Rules

**Chapter 3 – New Rules**

Things were going as planned.

Lots of sex followed by Justin demanding a relationship talk right on schedule.

"I miss you," started Justin. "I can lose myself in painting for hours, but the second the brush gets set down – I _miss_ you. This move has been great for my career, but I'm not sure how good it's been for me." Justin gave a half-laugh. "I'm moving back to Pittsburgh after the show. I've got a ticket on a flight within the week."

Brian stared at Justin in shock, speechless. So much for plans.

"Brian, what's wrong? Don't you want me back?"

"_NO_." At the look on Justin's face Brian backtracked "Shit. That's not what I meant; of course I want you back." Brian took a deep breath. Justin had surprised him again. Only man he'd ever had in his life who could. "You can't move back to Pittsburgh. It's impossible."

Justin stared at Brian reminding himself that Brian had told him the only thing that mattered. Brian wanted him back. "Why is it impossible?"

"Because I'm moving to New York." Brian said through gritted teeth.

"You can't move to New York. Kinnetics is in Pittsburgh."

Brian was irritated as hell. This was not how he'd planned to tell Justin. "I've been killing myself for two months to line up New York contracts for Kinnetics. I have the first face-to-face meeting tomorrow afternoon."

Brian's arms were suddenly full. Brian took a few moments to enjoy Justin's reaction before he continued. "Wait a minute. I have some things that I need to understand."

Justin looked up. "What?"

"I can't…" Brian stumbled over the words, clearly uncomfortable. "I really don't want to move to New York and have you miserable again." Hazel eyes met blue, demanding an answer. "Sunshine, I love you. But it keeps happening. I think things are okay and then you leave. It's giving me nightmares."

Justin lay back on the bed, trying desperately to come up with an answer. Only Brian would put it so baldly. Brian, who had never broken his word, never pretended to be something he wasn't. Who had, with some reluctance, done everything Justin had asked. And yet, Justin kept leaving. No wonder Brian was worried. The really amazing thing was that he could admit it.

"I'm probably going to say this all wrong, so try to be patient." Justin sighed softly "Most of the problems went away when you told me you loved me, that you'd do anything to make me happy. I think rest will get solved by moving. Here in New York, I'm not the kid who got bashed and you're not the stud of Liberty Avenue."

Justin continued slowly, trying to find the right words. "Our family - everybody - kept telling me I was in over my head with you. I was too young, too innocent. You'd get bored. You'd never love me. It was endless. I love them all, but everywhere I turned, there were people watching, waiting for us to fall apart. I know they meant well, but… you hear it often enough, you start to believe it. I kept acting like an idiot trying to make you prove them wrong."

Brian leaned back "I didn't know they went after you too. I should have."

"Let's be honest, Brian. You'd probably have agreed with them. You kept talking about how young I was."

"Well, you kept talking about how old I was. It seemed fair." Brian was clearly pissed off. "I wouldn't have agreed with them, at least not after you moved back in that first time. I told you I wanted to come home to you. Did you think I didn't mean it? Why the fuck did you think I kept taking you back?" Intense hazel eyes met blue. "You were _never_ too young, and you lost your innocence to me and a baseball bat a very long time ago."

Justin closed his eyes as a defense against the pain in Brian's voice. "I stopped worrying about you leaving the day you told me you loved me"

Brian looked down "I haven't stopped worrying about you leaving me." Brian leaned down for a kiss to soften the words. "What else went wrong?"

"Mostly I just needed to grow up. So did you." Justin teased with a small smile. "But now that we have, you've got to start including me more in the big decisions that affect us both – like setting up New York contracts. Or the house. Britin is beautiful, but you picked it out without talking to me. When you do stuff like that, it makes me feel like a junior partner or something."

"_You_ said you wanted a country manor."

"I was kidding. Christ, Brian. You should know me better than that."

"Uh, I put the house up for sale."

Justin laughed, relieved at the sale, irritated that he hadn't known. "Just talk to me about big moves _before_ you make them. Okay?"

"I was going to ask you to find us a place in New York. I still have to spend a lot of time in Pittsburgh. I thought you'd have time after the show to look." Brian looked at Justin with a smile, willing him to understand what it meant to give up that control.

"I'd love to." Justin responded. He leaned in to Brian, starting to touch him, hold him.

"You know, Sunshine. You've left one thing out of the discussion. Are you afraid I won't want new rules about other men?" Brian said.

"The rules were never really the problem."

"Bullshit," exclaimed Brian. "It drove you nuts when I did other guys. And you weren't too happy when I got syphilis."

"You had _syphilis_. Of course I was annoyed. I had to go to the doctor. No sex for ages." Justin sounded as exasperated as he felt. "As for the guys – it was the quantity that drove me nuts. You were running out of guys to fuck. Think about how much time that takes. I'd go days without seeing you until 3:00 am." Justin tried again. "Brian, I like the tricks too, just not as frequently. I like it a lot better when we're doing them together. That session with your mom's minister was hot. I tried being monogamous once. It got old really fast, especially when he lied."

"Ethan not that great in bed? Sorry to hear it." Brian took a deep breath, "So, what, we're going to put a quota on it? Three a week? Or joint fucks only?"

Justin let the Ethan crack go. "Not when we still have to be apart so much. Can you imagine the last two months with no tricks?" Justin laughed at the look on Brian's face. "I haven't been a monk, but," Justin paused, "I kept the original deal."

Brian's face softened. "Me, too. I probably kept the one we're making now. I only did a couple of tricks a week, if that."

Justin stared at Brian in shock.

Brian looked embarrassed, then defensive. "What? I can't take a break from non-stop fucking? I was busy getting New York clients. Did you do more?"

"Well. Yeah," said Justin, still surprised. "Didn't you miss it?"

Brian just looked at him, at an utter loss to figure out where the conversation was going. What the fuck did Justin really want?

Justin suddenly started laughing. "God, Brian, there are times when my life is too queer for me. I just pictured my mother's face if she heard me talking about quotas on joint fucks or _me_ worried _you_ weren't getting enough."

"Deb would just help us hash out the rules." Brian muttered. Justin cracked up at the thought.

Brian looked down and started to smile. Justin's laughter was contagious. "I guess I can take another chance on love. We'll keep the old rules. Somehow, I don't think it's going to be a problem. We can discuss the rules every year on your birthday, if you want."

That set Justin off again. "Sounds good, but let's talk after the birthday party - unless you really want Debbie's help."

Brian started laughing, picturing the scene as he fell back on the bed beside his giggling lover. He reached over, planning to kiss the laughter away.

Brian's phone rang. "Shit." Brian moved away from Justin so he could hear over the other man's gasping for breath between laughs. "What?"

"Brian, if Justin's there, don't let him know it's me?" Jennifer Taylor's voice came over the phone. "Can you give me a call when you're alone? We've got a problem."

"It'll be a while before I call back." Brian said, moving back toward the bed, intent on Justin.

"Why am I not surprised? Tomorrow's okay." Jennifer commented as she hung up.


	4. Chapter 4 The Client

**Chapter 4 – The Client**

The least she could do is answer the damn phone.

Brian stood in the state-of-the-art conference room, wondering why Jennifer Taylor didn't answer.

He looked over at his new client. John Avery defined elegance – about 5' 10", slim, dark brown hair, aristocratic features. Very nice. Brian smiled as he reached the conclusion – gay.

John looked up from the boards he was studying "My marketing director was right, it's the campaign we're after. I do, however, have a few questions." He sat down at the table.

Brian joined him "I'm sure I can supply the answers."

"I had you checked out." John watched the other man tense slightly. "I like to know who I'm dealing with. Standard operating procedure within the Avery clan, I'm afraid. I must admit the report on you made a more interesting read than most."

Brian grinned. "I'll bet. What do you want to know?"

John thought for a moment. The ad campaign was brilliant but almost everything in the detective's report had portrayed a narcissistic, ambitious, selfish man. Someone John knew he couldn't work with long-term. There had been two glaring exceptions – his friends and the Stockwell campaign.

John got straight to the point. "Why relocate to New York? You appear to have family and friends in Pittsburgh."

It was a fair question, Brian thought. If he was a client, he'd want to know how committed Kinnetics was to the New York move.

"Two reasons – I was getting bored. Kinnetic is up and running in Pittsburgh. Clients come to us now. New York is a challenge. The second, more important reason is that Justin Taylor, my," Brian hesitated, "partner, needs to live in New York for his work. I can move part of my business to New York. He can't stay in Pittsburgh and become everything he should." Strange how much easier it was to talk about Justin with strangers than with people he'd known all his life.

John nodded thoughtfully. "Second question. You lost everything when you sabotaged the Stockwell campaign. Why'd you do it?"

Brian studied John as he leaned back in his chair, his posture changing - more arrogant, almost aggressive.

"The guy was a corrupt, homophobic, power-hungry bastard who covered up a murder. It isn't likely to come up again. Why do you care?"

John smiled slightly at the belligerent answer. He was starting to like Brian. "Just wondering what motivated you. You sacrificed everything."

The phrase triggered memories. Brian eyes softened as he thought back, his voice soft as he replied "Sometimes you have to for what you believe in." His focus snapped back to John. "Anything else you need to know? What I had for breakfast last Wednesday? Or some other equally riveting detail?"

John smiled "One last question. Don't answer if you don't want to, it's just curiosity on my part. The report was pretty descriptive. Why so many guys?"

"Just curious?" Brian stood with a knowing smile. "You're right. It's none of your business, but I don't mind telling you. I like to fuck. And I'm good at it – fabulous." Brian sized John up. "How curious are you?"

John laughed, avoiding the answer. "Welcome to New York, Mr. Kinney. You've got the contract. I think we'll work well together." John held out his hand to shake Brian's.

Brian took the hand, a slightly puzzled look on his face, quickly masked. "You know," he drawled "after asking about my sex life you can call me Brian."

"Do you have plans for dinner tonight, Brian? I thought we might celebrate." John asked.

Brian smiled slightly. "Justin's show opens at 7:00. I need to be there."

"Well, the Avery's have a long history of supporting the arts, " John continued. "Why don't I join you after we eat? Just let me make one phone call first."

John pulled out his cell and hit auto-dial "Marc, slight change of plans. Care to join me at an art show?" After a slight pause he laughed "I know it's not your style. It won't hurt you to try something with a bit of class. You spend too much time surrounded by brawny men." John smiled slightly at the response. "Great, I'll text you the address."

Brian started to move toward the door as John put the phone away. All his worries came back when his phone rang. After a glance at the caller ID, he asked "Where the fuck have you been?" Brian moved to the window to look out over New York as he waited for Jennifer Taylor's reply.

"My cell died this morning, just before I went to see Justin's father at the hospital. There's no signal there. I'm at the airport now with Daphne and Deb. I couldn't talk while they could hear. Our flight's late, so I had a minute."

"What's wrong with his father?"

"Leukemia. He needs a bone marrow transplant. He wants to find Justin. He says Justin owes him." Jennifer's disgust for her ex came across loud and clear. "Molly's not a match."

"I'm surprised he wouldn't rather die than get polluted with gay bone marrow. Did you give him Justin's number?"

"Not yet – but it's just a matter of time until he gets it."

Brian thought quickly. "Will two days make a difference?"

"No, the doctor said Craig's got to recover from chemo before they can do a transplant. That's going to take a couple of weeks."

"Well – give the son of a bitch a message for me. He calls Justin before Monday and I will do everything I can to talk Justin out of helping Craig, including kidnapping. Craig waits and I won't work too hard at it. Justin's earned this show. I won't let that bastard ruin it for him."

"Do you think Justin will do it? Should we stop him?"

"I don't know. Justin will make his own decision. He always does. He always has." Brian shook his head in disgust. "I'm not sure his father has been enough of a bastard to stop Justin from helping him. He's only had Justin arrested and tried to kill me."

"Well, at least I can convince Craig to wait. He thinks you're Satan. He'd believe that you'd kidnap Justin. I've got to go. Deb's looking for me. I'll see you at the opening."

Brian stared out the window as he listened to the dial tone. "Fuck."


	5. Chapter 5 The Show Part 1

**Chapter 5 – The Show Part 1  
**

Brian and John entered the gallery together. The walls were covered with renditions of New York streets and people. The large room was partitioned off into several sections providing extra display space. A crowd was standing around, chatting and snacking. There was a momentary silence as the two men entered, then the conversation resumed – louder.

John looked around, disappointed, he had thought that Brian would have better taste in men than this. The paintings were bland, unoriginal - safe. They'd probably sell well. "I don't know, Brian, these really don't do much for me," John said trying to be polite.

"Yeah, they're crap." Brian looked around. "I guess Justin's stuff must be in the next room. Let's go check it out." They walked through the door into the second room.

John's breath caught as he stared. "Jesus, Brian." The paintings almost overwhelmed the senses. Passion, pain, hope. It was all there. The scenes of New York were stark, brilliant with emotions. The loneliness and excitement of the city somehow displayed side by side. The abstracts caught the eye and refused to let go.

Brian walked up to a large abstract. The painting was a kaleidoscope - predominantly swirls of gray and black with a tinge of red. Other colors appeared through the main shades in patterns that continually brought new images from his subconscious to the forefront of his mind. The painting was almost alive as it danced in his vision, continually revealing itself in new ways. Some of Justin Taylor's best work.

Brian looked down at the tag. "Shit, it's already sold."

A pair of arms came around him from behind. "No, it's not. I wanted to show it, but I painted it for you. I thought you might like it." Nerves showed through in Justin's voice.

Brian turned to kiss Justin. "I do." Brian drew the other man into the conversation. "John, I'd like you to meet Justin Taylor. Justin, John Avery – Kinnetics' newest client."

Justin smiled politely and held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, John."

"And you. I'm impressed by your work. I find it surprising in someone so young." John flashed a smile. "I'm also having a very hard time deciding what to buy."

Justin's smile broadened and John's eyes widened at its brilliance.

"Oh, my God – John is that you?" Noelle's voice cut across the gallery. Dragging another woman behind her - the tall, flamboyant woman almost ran to where John and Brian were standing.

"Noelle, Lisa – it's lovely to see you again. It's been awhile." John leaned forward to give the gallery owners each a peck on the cheek.

"Too long. See anything you like?" said Noelle loudly.

A sudden hush fell over the gallery. John smiled slightly "I'm trying to decide how much of Mr. Taylor's work I'm going to buy."

Conversation started again. Justin looked at Lisa, a question in his eyes. Lisa, a short, chunky woman with cropped brown hair, pulled him aside and whispered. "He's an Avery. If he buys – all the little lemmings will too." Justin stared at John then turned to Brian with narrowed eyes.

"Brian, can I talk to you for a second?" Justin pulled Brian away from the small group. "Did you have anything to do with John liking my stuff?"

"Of course not, you little twat," Brian said, clearly disgusted at the thought. At Justin's look of disbelief, Brian continued. "When we walked in, he told me he didn't like the work – he thought you painted that shit out there."

Noelle interjected "Sorry to interrupt. Justin needs to meet with Simon Caswell."

Justin flashed Brian an apologetic smile as he let himself be led away.

After the interview, Brian, Justin, and John were standing in the front room when Noelle walked up. "I declare the show a success, Justin. Six paintings sold and we're just getting started. We're selling more of Philippe's work, but I warned you that would happen. Most people like safe art. Your work takes a more discerning eye. When word gets out that John here likes your work as much as Simon Caswell, it'll really move. And the price will go up."

Noelle flashed a smile as she floated off.

A painting near the entrance of the second room caught Brian's eye - a fairy queen surveying her domain – her guards hovering in the background protecting against the encroaching shadows. "Whoa – what's that? Is that Ari, your new roommate?"

Justin looked slightly embarrassed. "Yeah – what do you think? It's not a new direction for me, more of a one-off. I just saw it when I looked at Ari." To Justin's shock, Brian's eyes glassed over. "Brian – what is it?"

"It's just..." Brian moved abruptly, uncomfortable as ever with emotion. "It's better than the stuff you did back then, but it's lighter, more like what you did before. You know - before the prom."

Justin caught his breath at the pain in Brian's voice. He moved in and laid a hand on Brian's chest. "When I moved to New York, I left a lot of baggage behind. Some of it I don't miss."

"Too bad some of the baggage won't stay away." Brian commented, thinking back to Jennifer's phone call. He pulled Justin in close, keeping out the world.

Justin felt the tension in Brian "Bri, is everything all right?"

"Yeah – everything's fine." Brian's response didn't convince Justin. There was something off.

"Brian, I know you better than that. What's wrong?" Justin pushed for the answer. Sometimes with Brian, it was the only way.

"It's nothing." Brian took a step back and looked down with a smile. Justin knew when Brian broke contact that he wouldn't get an answer.

John watched, amazed at the King of Liberty Avenue's behavior. The depiction of Justin in the detective's report he had commissioned on Kinnetic looked accurate. An innocent young man, a very gifted artist – but Brian didn't fit his description at all.

The entry to the gallery opened. John watched in bemusement as Justin's eyes widened, then narrowed in speculation. The look on Justin's face made John wonder why he hired detectives – Justin might be young, but he was definitely not innocent.

Justin knew he had spotted a way to shake Brian out of his odd mood.

Brian loved a challenge.

"Brian – remember - I saw him first."


	6. Chapter 6 The Show Part 2

**Chapter 6 – The Show, Part 2**

Brian looked down in surprise.

He'd only been in town for a day and _Justin _wanted to play games?

Brian glanced toward the door. A tall, well-built man in his mid-twenties was holding the door open for Justin's roommate Ari, towering over her. A heart-shaped face, full lips, perfectly cut short brown hair and startling blue eyes topped a body that looked like it lived in a gym. Although he was dressed in a fitted designer suit, the younger man wore it carelessly, with no airs to show off his perfect body. He leaned down to speak to Ari as she entered the gallery, a vision in a layered green dress.

Brian's gay-dar went off. "Seeing him first doesn't matter, Sunshine. It's doing him first that counts. Besides, he's big enough to share."

Justin smiled. The distraction had worked. Brian's odd mood had shifted with his focus.

John had been watching the two men, fascinated. Curious, he glanced at the door and started to laugh - he should have known. "Down, boys. Any sharing will have to be negotiated with me." He waved towards the door. "Marc – over here."

Brian winced.

"Brian, don't you know its bad form to hit on your clients' boyfriends?" Justin quipped. "At least, not right in front of them." The last aside was whispered quietly, so John wouldn't hear.

Brian glared at Justin, silently promising retribution later.

Marc and Ari joined them. Justin introduced his roommate.

"Delighted to meet you, Ari." John took over the introductions. "This is Marc Ryan, left-winger for the New York Riders. Marc, meet Justin Taylor, one of the artists showing today and Brian Kinney, a business associate."

"Pleased to meet you all. Congratulations on what looks like a great show." Marc's voice was surprisingly quiet for such a big man.

"Really – you know about art shows?" quipped Brian.

Marc looked at Brian, startled - then turned to John. "You told them I've never been to an art gallery in my life, didn't you?"

"No. I wouldn't. Brian overheard our phone call earlier. You didn't love my plans for the evening."

"Well - it was a long practice today." He smiled at Justin, obviously embarrassed.

Justin smiled back. "Don't worry. I've never been to a hockey game."

"Well, as John said, trying something new won't hurt me. Which paintings are your work?" Marc looked around curiously and then turned pale. "Oh, no. Why are they here?" He looked at John. "John - why are _we both_ here?"

John looked at a small group he hadn't noticed before - two of Marc's teammates with their wives. "Well, they're here because Meg has decided to become a patron of the arts. I think she's bored. I'm here because Brian invited me to the show. I have no idea why you're here since you obviously can't be with me." John was enjoying Marc's discomfort.

Ari offered to help. She was the only girl. "You can be my date."

Marc looked even more confused. "Why would they believe that?"

John started to laugh. "You've misunderstood, Ariana. Marc's a Canadian – as are most of his teammates. Being gay is not a problem. Sleeping with the owner's brother in the midst of his first contract negotiations – now that's a problem."

Justin smirked at Brian as he stepped up. "I love it when opportunity knocks, don't you?" Justin pulled Marc's head down and kissed him. "You're here to support your artist boyfriend, of course."

Justin took a surprised Marc by the hand to lead him over to the group. As they started to move, they were spotted.

"Oh, Marc!" Meg was by the muscular man's side in an instant, batting her eyelashes in a way that made Justin uncomfortable. "I'm surprised to see you here. Is this your boyfriend?"

"Justin is one of the artists," Marc explained.

"He's just too adorable!" She leered at Justin, and he smiled back tentatively, fighting the urge to turn around and roll his eyes at Brian. "You must come to dinner with us sometime and tell us how you two met! Which paintings are yours?"

Brian had to laugh at the stunned expression on John's face as Marc and Justin moved off with the foursome into the second room. "Don't worry. Marc's safe enough. Justin's just playing."

"What?" asked John "How do you know?" John wouldn't admit it, but Justin Taylor had him worried.

"I know Justin. Besides, we don't fuck friends."

"What, never?" John asked with an arched brow, surprised at the compliment.

Brian's eyes narrowed speculatively and his lips quirked up as he answered, "Well, hardly ever."

"Oh, look, Daphne's here," Ari interrupted as she spotted her old friend. "Justin will be thrilled!"

Brian turned to see that Daphne, Debbie and Jennifer had finally arrived. The three women were entering the gallery looking around for Justin.

"Shit," muttered Brian. If Debbie saw Marc and Justin, the whole world would know they weren't dating. Brian took off to intercept the women.

Brian planted himself in front of Debbie to stop her. After some quick hellos, he started to explain. "Justin's in the next room with a guy called Marc Ryan. It'll look like they're dating…"

Debbie interrupted. "Brian – you didn't come to New York and get to meet a new boyfriend, did you? Did you fuck it up?"

"No, I didn't fuck it up. Christ, would you just shut up." Brian took a breath, exasperated. "Justin's just doing Marc a favor, pretending they're dating. Marc's a hockey player."

"Why would Justin do that?" Daphne queried.

Brian tried to come up with a quick explanation and couldn't. "It doesn't matter. Go ahead and say hi. Pretend you know all about Marc dating Justin." Brian smiled at the thought of Debbie's acting.

Brian moved back to where John and Ari were standing. They were positioned perfectly to watch the scene through the door. Brian leaned in to John, "This should be good. Justin doesn't even know they're coming to the show. I flew them in for moral support."

"Sunshine!" Debbie's voice carried across the room.

Justin head whipped around in surprise "Deb, Mom, Daphne! What are you all doing here?" He was engulfed in a hug.

"You couldn't keep us away, honey," Deb declared. "So, who the fuck is this? A new boyfriend?"

Justin looked around wildly and spotted Brian, watching from the main room. Justin moved his lips silently. "Bastard." He knew who had paid for the airline tickets. Brian could have warned him. Brian just grinned, enjoying the show.

Justin turned to respond "Yeah, Deb. This is Marc. Marc, this is Debbie Novotny. She's been like a second mother to me."

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am. Justin's mentioned you."

Deb decided to have some fun. "Oh, what'd he say?"

Marc was saved from answering when Daphne hugged Justin. "I'm so excited we made it! Our flight was late, but we're here." Daphne turned to Marc and hugged him, too. "Great to see you again, Marc."

"Uh – you, too," Marc replied, beginning to look overwhelmed.

"Justin, sweetheart, I'm so proud of you. The show looks amazing," Jennifer gave Justin a hug. She looked pointedly at Marc.

"Mom, this is great! I didn't know you guys were coming," said Justin. "Marc, this is my mother."

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," Marc gave a hard swallow.

"Likewise, Marc. We'll have to have a long chat and get to know each other." Jennifer smiled at the look on Marc's face. He looked as if he wanted to vanish.

Ari turned to John and Brian. "So, should we go save them?"

"Fuck no, they got themselves into this – they can get themselves out," responded Brian with a knowing smile. "It's worse than you think. That little brunette, Meg, wasn't it? I know her type. Some breeders don't hate gays, and feel compelled to prove it to the world."

John started to laugh at the description.

Brian continued, "Justin will be hit up with invitations to dinner, to games, to anything she can think of just so she can feel better about herself. She won't stop until Justin shows up. On the plus side, she'll buy some of his paintings."

Ari looked at Brian "You cannot possibly know that."

John nodded his head, "No, he's right. I've known her for years. That's exactly what she'll do."

"How long are those contract negotiations going to last?" Brian asked.

"Could finish tomorrow, or it could be two more months," responded John.

Brian smirked. "I think Justin's about to learn more than he ever wanted to know about hockey."

"As long as he doesn't learn too much about hockey players," John retorted.


	7. Chapter 7 Craig's Call

**Chapter 7 – Craig's Call**

It was good to be home.

Justin ran up the stairs to his room, hoping to find Brian there.

The weekend had been surreal – life couldn't get better than this.

Brian's arrival. Opening his first show.

Visiting with Debbie, Daphne and his mom at the show on Saturday - watching their reactions whenever a piece sold.

Watching his art sell – that had been a high like no other. Lisa had been right. His stuff flew out on Saturday after word got out that both John Avery and Simon Caswell liked it.

Celebrating with Brian.

Sleeping in this morning and waking up wrapped around an already aroused Brian.

Making the most of his morning with Brian.

Meeting Marc and John. He'd been so busy since he'd arrived in New York, he hadn't had time to make many friends. The new faces had made spending Sunday afternoon at a hockey game worthwhile.

Justin burst into his room to find Brian sitting on the bed, working on his laptop, half naked. Time to celebrate again!

"So how did you enjoy the hockey game?"

Justin tossed his sketchbook into a corner and grinned as he started to undress. "It wasn't too bad - more exciting than the baseball games my dad used to take me to."

Brian's eyes darkened to brown at the reminder of Justin's dad. "Did you enjoy looking at all that padding?"

"Not really, but I did learn a few new things."

"Oh – like the size of Marc's stick?"

"No," Justin laughed as he reached out and set the laptop on his dresser. He crawled to where Brian sat in the middle of the bed and leaned in to start kissing him. "Like what a two-on-one is. Or a three-on-one." Justin tackled Brian to the bed, laughing. "My favorite was body-checking." They started to kiss. Champagne kisses, full of light and laughter.

Brian's mood brightened in response to Justin's happiness. He flipped Justin onto his back. "Well, my favorite is the penalty box." Brian held Justin's hands above his head with one hand and started tickling him with the other, enjoying the feel of Justin's uncontrollable wriggling beneath him.

"Brian! Stop that!" Justin was laughing so hard that his eyes started to tear. The phone rang. "Brian - let me get that." Justin's smile lit up his face as he grabbed the phone. "Yeah?" He shot up.

"Dad?" A brief pause and the smile started to fade, laughter vanishing slowly from Justin's blue eyes, replaced by concern and the remnants of love for his father.

_Shit,_ Brian thought, _he's going to do it_. _He's going to go through hell to save that bastard._ Brian knew that Justin's response of "I need to think about this," meant that he was already figuring out how to make it happen, but it was obvious that Craig didn't understand his son at all. Justin's face started to harden as he listened to his father.

"I should do this because I owe you? For what? Throwing me out? Having me arrested? Trying to kill Brian?" Justin moved away from Brian as he listened to his father.

"Oh, so it's my duty as your son to save you? That's all that's left here, isn't it, Dad? Debt and obligation," Justin's voice was choked with pain, the last shred of hope for reconciliation with his father dying. "Let's be clear, Craig. I don't owe you a goddamned thing," and with that, Justin slammed down the phone.

"Brian," Justin's voice wavered as he reached blindly for comfort. "My father, he…he wants me to…" Justin couldn't finish.

Brian interrupted gently, "I know." He pulled Justin down into an embrace with Justin's head on his chest, gently stroking Justin's hair as he felt tears drip down.

Justin's head came up "You know? How do you know?"

"He told your mother on Thursday. She told me. We wanted you to have your show, and a couple of days weren't going to make a difference to your father. The bastard was supposed to wait until tomorrow to call." Brian shook his head lightly in disgust, "I guess he didn't want me to tell you about it first."

"He's dying."

"Yeah, and that sucks. It doesn't mean you have to risk yourself to save him."

"He's my father."

"Really? I've never noticed him acting like one." Brian made a visible effort to reign in his anger.

"No shit." Justin was thinking back to all the pain his father had caused him over the last six years. But, still - "I guess some part of me still hoped…" the thought broke off.

"I warned you about that. As long as you care, you can be hurt."

The comment brought Justin's repressed anger to the surface. "Why am I letting him hurt me?" Justin shook his head in agitation. "Why am I even thinking about helping him? Why should I care about _him_? He kicked me out. He attacked you."

Justin's face contorted as the rage erupted. "I know he'd rather see me dead than gay. He's like all the rest of them… like the guy who set off the bomb. Christ, for all I know, he is the guy that set off the bomb. He's certainly capable of it. He's treated me like shit, treated my mother like shit. I do not have to help him."

Justin was moving now, frantic, unable to sit still. "Why do I feel guilty? Why am I even considering helping that bastard out?" He looked at Brian with eyes full of anguish. "Why can't I be strong enough to walk away? You escaped your father – why the hell can't I escape mine?"

"I didn't."

"What?" Justin was startled out of his rant.

"I didn't escape my father." Brian looked at Justin, no expression on his face except for his eyes. His eyes were on fire. "He kept reeling me in. I gave him money for years. Let him get to me. You had 17 good years with your father. I don't think I had 17 good minutes with mine and I couldn't escape him."

"You never said anything."

"Why the fuck would I?"

Justin heard a lifetime of pain behind that statement and suddenly deflated onto the bed. The anger had run its course. "What am I going to do? Brian – what the fuck am I going to do?"

"The right thing for you. Not him."

"I don't know what that is."

Brian smiled, thinking back. "You'll figure it out. You always do."

Justin leaned into Brian's body, consoling himself by lighting caressing his lover as he thought. "Let's go home to Pittsburgh tomorrow. I need to talk to my Mom and I - I don't know – I just want to go home." Justin was having a hard time articulating his need for his family - his real family.

"I'll book the flights."

Justin lifted his head and started to kiss Brian. Slow, tender kisses that soothed the soul, eased their sorrow. Brian felt Justin's need like an aching void demanding something, anything to fill it. Brian was at a loss, desperately wanting to help, but not knowing how.

Justin reached for a condom and started to roll Brian over onto his stomach. Brian resisted, stopping the motion. He looked at Justin, reading him, trying to understand. It slowly dawned on Brian that Justin needed to take control of something to help him cope with the things he couldn't control.

Brian let himself go.


	8. Chapter 8 Liberty Diner

**Chapter 8 – Liberty Diner**

Justin chose his time carefully.

He had checked with Michael to find out when Deb was working that day. Justin knew the ebb and flow of traffic in the diner. He'd spent so many hours there. Ten o'clock in the morning was the quiet time. He badly needed some quiet time with Debbie.

As he came through the door, he saw Emmett Honeycutt sitting at the service bar chatting with Debbie and Justin immediately knew that quiet wasn't likely to happen. He also knew he wasn't ready to talk to Emmett about his father. He'd have to wait it out to talk to Deb.

Debbie spotted him and immediately walked out from behind the counter to give him a hug. "Sunshine! What the fuck are you doing in Pittsburgh?"

"Justin, sweetie!" Emmett squealed, interrupting before Justin had a chance to answer. He hopped off his stool to give Justin a quick hug. "Michael told me you might be coming in this morning."

Justin moved to a stool at the counter. He had to smile despite his mood. Debbie had on a lime green T-shirt under her red vest saying _'Heterosexuality is not normal. JUST COMMON!'_

As Emmett chattered, Justin responded on auto-pilot, too distracted to give any real response. Emmett had broken up with his new boyfriend. Ted and Blake were doing great. Hunter was looking for a college. Mel and Linds had found a school in Toronto. Emmett was moving to New York.

"What?" Justin interrupted, startled. "You're moving to New York? Why?"

"I got a phone call from an independent TV station in Chelsea." Emmett tilted his head to one side with a smile. "Startime is sponsoring a new show and they want little old me. They said that my Fetch experience will draw in a ready made audience and that they liked me as the Queer Guy. So, they picked me for their show. Isn't it fabulous?" Emmett clapped his hands together in excitement.

Justin stared in bemusement for a moment before he could respond. "What's the show about?"

"Well," bubbled Emmett, "they want someone to go around interviewing people about their sexual kinks. Check out products. That sort of thing. We'll start off in New York, but eventually maybe travel around."

"So you're just going to say good-bye to Pittsburgh?" said Debbie.

Emmett paused for a moment, "Given that my last boyfriend just did not work out and that Drewsie is still out fucking everything that moves, I thought a change of scenery would be good."

Emmett cocked his head to one side and smiled hopefully at Justin, "What do you think? Is the Big Apple ready for me?"

"Definitely," responded Justin, starting to laugh. "I know I'll be watching every episode."

"We're sure as shit going to miss your bony ass around here." Debbie's response came complete with a hug. "Congratulations."

"I should run - lots to do before I can move." Emmett bounced off his stool. "Now, Justin, honey, I'm counting on you to help me settle in."

Justin stopped laughing. Hopefully, he'd figure out what to do about his father before Emmett needed help. Justin knew who he'd rather give his time to. "I'll do my best."

"Babylon tonight?"

"I'm not sure. I might go and hang out with Daphne. I'll give you a shout if I decide to go."

"Ta ta." With that, Emmett Honeycutt flounced out the front door.

Deb turned her stare to Justin.

"All right, where were we before we got interrupted? What are you doing in Pittsburgh?"

Justin smiled. That was Deb, straight to the point as always.

Debbie continued. "And don't bullshit me, Sunshine. I know you didn't just drop in. Is everything all right?"

"No, it's not." Justin was struggling to find a way to raise the topic of his father. The whole situation felt surreal. Justin found himself wondering when he'd wake up.

He tried to start. "Has my mom talked to you lately?"

"Oh, no," Debbie's eyes instantly softened with compassion and worry. "Is something wrong with Jen? She seemed fine at the show."

"Mom's fine." Justin paused.

"Is Brian okay?" Debbie pressed.

Justin knew then why he had come to Pittsburgh. Debbie would force him to face reality. She couldn't help herself. He smiled slightly and took a deep breath, "Brian's fine. It's my father." He continued quickly, before he lost his nerve. "He has cancer."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Sunshine. It's good that you came home to see him after all he's done." Debbie came around the bar and sat on the stool beside Justin, forcibly slowing her pace so she could focus on Justin. "You can show you still care."

"Yeah, I care." Justin repeated the word thoughtfully. "But do I care enough?"

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"My father has leukemia. They're having a hard time controlling it. He needs a bone marrow transplant. He called and asked me to get tested." Justin smiled disdainfully. "First civil thing he's said to me in years. I wasn't too polite to him after he told me it was my duty to go through surgery because I owe him."

"Shit, I'm sorry, honey. Your dad's an asshole." Debbie looked at him closely, trying to read his intentions. "Are you going to do it?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" Justin hesitated before continuing. "I want to walk away."

Debbie's response was soft, gentle. "I can't say that I blame you."

Justin was relieved. That Debbie could respond that way meant a lot. He'd been afraid that she'd think him a coward for not offering immediately.

"Hey, can we get some food here?" A loud voice yelled from the booth behind them.

"Keep yelling and you'll never get any. Didn't your mother teach you any fucking manners?" Debbie responded at the top of her lungs.

Turning back to Justin she queried softly, "Now where was I?" Debbie paused for a second, choosing her words carefully. "The way your father treated you, nobody should be surprised if you don't help." She smiled sadly. "I've watched you for years, Sunshine - handling shit no kid should have to go through, like your dad. You're going to have to live with your dad's rejection for the rest of your life. It's always gonna hurt, but it's okay to walk away."

Debbie locked Justin's gaze with her own, making sure she had his attention. "But I know you, and it isn't that easy, is it?"

Justin smiled wryly as he shook his head no.

"I didn't think so." Debbie gave Justin a look filled with pride before she continued.

"I don't give a shit if your dad dies." Debbie's blunt statement startled Justin. "But," she went on "you better be damn sure that you don't either, 'cause he's likely gonna die. And you're going to have to live with _that_ the rest of your life, too." Debbie leaned over and gave Justin a kiss on the top of his head as she stood.

Debbie got the order, moving efficiently through the diner, taking requests and providing meals as the lunch-time crowd started to drift in. Justin remained on the stool, staring off into the distance, no conscious thoughts penetrating the churning noise from his subconscious. Images kept flashing into his mind, coming to him as completed paintings that his hands itched to put to canvas. Debbie kept a close eye on him as she worked, periodically coming back to give him an opportunity to talk, just wanting him to know she was there for him.

Finally, Justin came out of his trance to focus on Debbie. "Thanks, Deb."

"Anytime, honey."

"Now," Deb pulled out her pad, "how about a nice piece of pie?"

* * *


	9. Chapter 9 Tuna Macaroni Casserole

**Chapter 9 – Tuna Macaroni Casserole**

Brian stood at the window, shirt undone, smoking.

Gentle jazz music filled the dimly lit loft as Brian waited for Justin to come home. He knew that Justin had spent the day visiting, talking - trying to find the right path. Brian could only hope it had helped.

The phone rang.

"Brian, it's Daphne. He's at my place."

Brian felt the tension leave his shoulders with the knowledge that Justin wasn't out wandering the streets. "How's he doing?"

"I'm not sure." Daphne's voice was filled with concern for her best friend. "He's drawing. You know how he gets when he's working out his problems. We were talking about his dad and he started to sketch. Right now I don't think he'd notice you if you walked by naked."

Brian smiled at the image. "Daphne, you've seen me naked. Be honest – he'd notice."

A small chuckle came over the line. "You're probably right. I remember the day he met you. He said he'd seen the face of God."

Brian smirked. "How appropriate."

He heard laughter in Daphne's voice. "Since you're not here, naked, he'll be sketching for a while. He needs to."

"You're right." Brian had seen Justin caught up in his art often enough to know it had a therapeutic value. "What's he sketching?"

"His dad, you and Gus are the main themes. I love the ones of Gus."

"When he comes up for air, tell him I want the ones of Gus." Brian's face softened as it always did at the mention of his son. "And Daphne? I'm glad you're there for him."

Daphne's initial response was a flippant, "Where else would I be?" before her tone grew more serious with "Brian, don't worry, we'll get him through this." She paused for a moment. "We'll get both of you through this."

Brian could hear the affection in her voice. In the months since Justin had left for New York, he and Daphne had spent a lot of time together, just talking about Justin at first.

Then one night, a couple of weeks after Justin's move, they'd gotten high together and talked all night. Under the influence of the drugs, Brian had confessed how much he missed Justin. Daphne had confided that Justin was miserable and couldn't paint - needed Brian.

The next day, Brian had called Justin to tell him the truth - things weren't okay without him. It was the first real conversation they had had since Justin had left. After that, calls occurred several times a day, rather than several times a week. Brian knew he had Daphne to thank for refusing to let them drift apart.

Since the all-nighter, Brian and Daphne's friendship had grown, deepening into it's present state. She was the one that had convinced him to go to New York. Her pointed comment "So your great plan is for both of you to be miserable forever? Don't you think you can come up with something better than that?" had hit home, driving him to figure out a way to solve the problem.

"Thanks, Daph… for everything." Brian finished up the call.

Brian walked across the loft to the table where he had left his laptop and the advertising layouts for the next day. He stared off into space for a while, then tried to focus on getting a little work done, Justin always on his mind.

* * *

About an hour later, Brian was startled by a knock on the door. He slid back the door to find Debbie Novotny with a tuna macaroni casserole.

"And here I wasn't planning to work out tomorrow." As he made the sarcastic comment, he moved aside to let her in, gesturing toward the couch.

"You're too damned skinny anyway," was her predictable response.

Brian smiled at the sight of Debbie settling down on the couch looking at him expectantly. He went over to a drawer, picking up the contents within. "It's a good thing Anita just laid in a fresh supply of weed." Snagging some cutlery, Brian made his way over to the couch and sat gracefully on the floor, his shoulder resting easily against Debbie's leg.

Debbie waited, the silence between them comfortable with the music softly playing in the background, until Brian passed her the lit joint. She coughed slightly when she inhaled, and passed it back.

"So what profound thoughts bring you to my humble abode?" Brian asked.

"Nothing humble about it," Debbie said as she looked around the loft. "Where do you buy all this stuff anyway?"

Brian looked at her with a quirked brow. "Planning to redecorate?"

"No. Just wondering." After a slight pause to smoke, she added, "Justin came by to see me today. I was wondering how you were doing?" Debbie looked down at Brian with concern.

"Fine. Why wouldn't I be? I'm not the one thinking about surgery."

Debbie shook her head lightly at his misunderstanding. "I wasn't talking about the surgery. You guys will work through that, no matter what happens." The marijuana was having its usual effect, slowing her down. She listened to the music for a moment before looking down at the man who was a second son to her. She slid off the couch to sit next to him on the floor.

"I'm worried about what happens to you when Justin goes back to New York."

Brian leaned back against the couch, inhaling. "I'll be okay."

"Bullshit," she said quietly. "You were a mess last time he left, don't think I didn't notice. That first couple of weeks, I thought you were going to drown yourself in booze and men." Debbie smiled softly. "I was proud of you when you pulled it back together, got on with your life. I don't want to see you go through that again."

"Don't worry. Everything's going to be okay." Brian was mellowing with the drug. He passed the joint back to Debbie. He decided it was as good a time as any to let everyone know his plans. "I'm going to New York, too."

"What?" Debbie knew she'd be annoyed later, but the marijuana made her start to laugh softly. "Christ, everybody's moving to New York. First Justin, then Emmett, now you."

"Honeycutt's going to New York?"

"Yeah, he's going on TV, talking about kinky sex. Maybe you could be his guest," Debbie smiled at the thought. "After all, you know more about fucking than anyone else in Pittsburgh." Brian gave a half-laugh at the thought, looking down at the cigarette.

Debbie passed Brian a fork and opened the casserole. The two of them sat for a while, listening to the tunes, eating out of the dish.

"You know, Brian," Debbie said thoughtfully, "I sometimes think that all the problems you and Sunshine have had come down to one thing."

"What's that? His lack of fashion sense?"

Debbie rolled her eyes. "Maybe, but that wasn't what I meant." Debbie was feeling very smooth. "I think it was Shakespeare who said, _Expectations make your heart ache."_ She looked off into space. "Or maybe I heard it in a song."

Brian looked at Debbie quizzically, a puzzled smile on his face. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Be patient. I'm thinking." She paused for a moment. "When you two first met, you didn't expect anything. Justin expected everything. That's why he kept getting hurt." Debbie continued "I figure you've spent the last five years fighting your way to expectations you can both live with."

Brian thought back to all the conversations and fights over the years, ending with the last one in New York – laying out the new rules. He gave a smile and a small nod to Debbie, acknowledging the accuracy of her statement. "I'm not sure we've found it yet."

"Well, that's what keeps it interesting." Debbie grinned before becoming suddenly serious. "Now, you listen to me."

Brian focused on Debbie, his gaze drifting slightly before settling on her face.

She continued. "The one thing that Justin needs the most and expects the least is you saying you love him. You need to tell him twenty, thirty times a day." Debbie got caught up in an image in her mind, "Maybe hire one of those airplanes – you know with a big sign that says _Brian loves Justin_."

Brian started to laugh. Deb looked annoyed for a moment, then grinned "Okay, maybe not. But my point is, I know it's hard for you, but you have to make an effort. How many times have you said it since he left?"

Brian looked at Debbie, surprised, "A few." Brian went on, thinking about those three little words. "But people say it so easily. Most times they don't mean it. Not really."

"What? You think he doesn't mean it?" Debbie looked at Brian, waiting. The silence was stark, speaking louder than words. Debbie paused, considering the man in front of her. She continued slowly. "I think he said it the first day you met, and ever since then some nasty little part of you has wondered if it's real, since it was so easy."

At Brian's wry look, Debbie hit him on the head in irritation.

"What the fuck?" Brian stared at Debbie in surprise.

"Get over it!" she looked him square in the eye. "_He_ _loves you_ and it hasn't been easy. Idiot." The last word was said with ample amounts of affection. Deb ate a few more bites of the macaroni, watching her surrogate son. She sighed at the conflict raging across Brian's face. "Justin grew up knowing people loved him, you grew up with parents who, well, let's just be nice and say some people shouldn't be parents. It's not surprising he recognized love first." Debbie stopped and thought for a moment before continuing. "And Brian, no matter what your mother and father told you, you are worth loving."

Brian sat on the floor beside the woman he considered his real mother, thinking. Years of having her watch out for him had coalesced into one simple truth - he trusted Debbie. He felt… safe when she was around. Relaxed by a combination of the drugs and that sense of safety, Brian's subconscious took Debbie at her word and reran his past with Justin, the viewpoint shifting slightly as he replayed the scenes assuming that Justin loved him rather than doubting he could. After a while, the memories coalesced into a different, more solid pattern.

It felt right.

Glancing over at Debbie, Brian struggled to find words to describe what he was feeling. He decided to keep it simple.

"Thanks, Deb. I love you, too"

* * *

Several hours later Brian lay in bed, his mind drifting, when he heard the sliding door to the loft open. Justin was home.

Justin stripped down to his underwear and walked toward the bed. Brian reached over to lift the sheets, letting Justin know he was awake.

"Did you decide?" Brian asked quietly into the dark.

Justin tensed slightly before answering, "Yeah. I am going to do it."

"I thought you would. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't picture you walking away from him. We'll get through it."

Justin crawled into bed and put his head on Brian's chest.

Brian's arms tightened around Justin tenderly. He felt Justin give a sigh, sinking into the embrace. Brian smiled, content.

It felt right.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10 A Surprising Turn

**Chapter 10 – Surprise**

_Bam! Bam! Bam!_

Who the hell could that be?

Brian listened to the pounding at the door as he was pounding into Justin. "We are not fucking answering it," he ground out, determined to finish what he'd started.

Brian heard Justin's grunt of agreement as he moved with his lover. Brian raised his voice as the knocking continued. "Go away!"

The knocking didn't stop. Brian tried again, yelling louder. "Go away!"

After a few more minutes, the distraction got to Brian. "Christ!" He disentangled himself and got up, looking down at Justin, furious at the interruption. "Hold that thought while I go and kill whoever the fuck is at the door." Justin gave a groan and collapsed back into the bed.

Brian threw on some sweats and went to open the sliding door. "Do you know what time…" Brian's voice broke off at the sight of the beautiful, tall, blonde woman standing at the door holding his son's hand.

"Lindsay," Brian looked at Lindsay's face, seeing the exhaustion in her red-rimmed eyes. "What the fu…" Brian broke off in the face of Gus' innocent stare. "What's wrong? Are Melanie and JR okay?"

"They're in Toronto, they're fine. Can we come in?" Lindsay pointed question shook Brian out of his shock.

Brian called out a warning, "Justin, Lindsay and Gus are here," before reaching down to pick up Gus. "Hey, Sonnyboy. How's it going?"

Gus leaned back to look into his father's face, putting one hand on each cheek. His face lit up and he gave Brian a kiss before answering, "I had to sleep in the car. I have to go potty." Gus leaned in and put his head on his father's shoulder.

Brian winced at the word. He glared incredulously at Lindsay "Potty?"

Lindsay shrugged with a weak laugh. "I'll work on it."

Justin came out of the bedroom, pulling a blue t-shirt on. His greeting of "Lindsay, it's good to see you," was followed by a hug and a series of questions about his New York opening. "I'm so proud of you, Justin," Lindsay praised. "I knew you could make it in New York."

Justin looked at Brian with a question in the glance. Brian's shrug plainly said _I haven't got a clue_. Justin smiled at Gus, snuggled in Brian's arms. "Hey, big guy! How about you and me going out to the Diner to see Grandma Deb and have some breakfast?"

Gus laughed "Hi, Jus! Let's go see Grandma Deb after I go potty." Gus wriggled a bit and Brian put him down.

"Sounds good," Justin laughed and led Gus to the bathroom.

Brian started making coffee as he and Lindsay waited for Justin and Gus to leave.

Justin came out with Gus and told the little boy to wait while he put on his shoes. "Lindsay, I have some things to do today, but I'm sure that between Deb, Michael, and Daph, we can spoil Gus rotten until you're ready to come get him." Justin flashed a quick smile, "It's really great to see you both. I've missed you."

Brian took a step toward Justin. "What things?"

"I guess it's time to go see the doctors, get tested and find out exactly what I'm getting into."

Lindsay gazed at the younger man, searching for clues. "Justin? What's wrong? Why do you have to go to the doctor?"

"I'm fine, Lindsay. It's not that important. Brian can explain after Gus and I head out."

Brian looked from Lindsay to Justin. "Justin, do you want me to come along?"

Justin smiled at the sight of Brian Kinney, torn, deciding who needed him more. "It's okay, Bri. Daphne promised to go with me if you had to work. Nothing's going to happen today. Besides, I have this great distraction right here." Justin picked Gus up and started tickling him as they left the loft.

Brian handed Lindsay a mug of coffee, taking the coffee pot for himself. "Hungry?" At Lindsay's nod, Brian got out some cereal and handed Lindsay a bowl.

She took it with an apprehensive "Why isn't Justin in New York? And why is he going to see a doctor?"

Brian gave Lindsay a quick rundown on the situation as they ate. After a few more minutes of polite conversation, Brian got irritated. "Okay, spill it. Why are you here without Smellie Mellie?"

Lindsay got up from the counter where she had been sitting and started to move around the loft. Spotting the sketches Justin had done the previous day, she started to look through them, avoiding the question. "Brian, do you think I could have this one of Gus?"

"If you ask Justin, I'm sure he'll paint a whole series for you." Brian's patience snapped. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Divorce," came the blunt declaration. "Well, at least as much as two lesbians who were never legally married can get divorced." The last was said without anger, only a lingering melancholy at the death of the relationship.

"After ten years, it's a divorce." Brian's concern was obvious. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Lindsay glanced over, resigned. "We've been fighting for the last two years. It never stops. We think we solve it and then we start again."

"What went wrong this time?"

"I don't know how..." Lindsay took a deep breath. "The bombing - Dusty's death made us start over. We talked, threw out all our problems as unimportant. With everything that happened, we just wanted to be together." Lindsay paused, looking through Justin's sketches. "We thought love was the only thing that mattered."

"Always a mistake." Quip ignored, Brian prompted, "and…"

"We were wrong." Lindsay closed her eyes, shaking her head softly. "The pressure of the move, finding work - we started to fight."

She paused, remembering. "They got nastier each time. We started throwing all that _unimportant_ history in each other's faces. The problems didn't go away just because we said they did. They were still there, buried under the rubble left by the bombing, waiting to resurface."

Brian's eyes tracked Lindsay's movements. "The bombing made us all go a little crazy for a while."

Lindsay sat down on the couch, leaning back with her eyes closed. "It's gotten to the point where we fight more than we talk. Two days ago, the kids got front row seats. It was awful." Lindsay looked at Brian, "I finally couldn't take it anymore. I packed up, rented a car and left around four o'clock this morning. It's over."

Brian sat down next to Lindsay, putting an arm around her as she continued.

"Brian, I have to start all over again. I still have some money from the sale of the house, but no job, no place to stay. Coming home to Pittsburgh was the only thing that made any sense to me." Lindsay sighed. "At least you'll get to see Gus all the time."

"Not all the time." Brian's wry expression said it all. "Fate has a nasty sense of humor. You come back and I move."

"What?" Lindsay sat up to look at Brian.

"Coming soon to a town _not_ near you - the opening of Kinnetics' New York branch."

As the implications of the statement hit her, Lindsay started laughing at the irony. "Fuck." She collapsed back on the couch.

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Brian agreed.

He leaned his head in to touch hers. "It'll be okay, Wendy. The lost boys will help."

"Thanks Peter." Lindsay sat, enjoying the comfort for a minute.

After a few minutes, she gave him a smile. "Well, I'm glad you're going, Brian. You two should be together and Justin needs to be there. It's the center of the art world." Lindsay sat up, a look of dawning revelation on her face. She repeated slowly. "It's the center of the art world." She looked at Brian with an expectant "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"How the hell would I know?" Brian's puzzled expression was overlooked by Lindsay as she got caught up in her own thoughts.

"My parents won't be happy." Lindsay stood and continued speaking softly. "So what else is new? I can't worry about them."

Brian watched Lindsay with concern as she walked slowly around the apartment, talking to herself.

"If Mel comes back, I won't see her." She frowned at the thought. "On the other hand, it'd be a clean break. No possibility of getting back together."

Lindsay completely ignored Brian's confusion as she weighed pros and cons on her way to a decision.

"If Mel comes back, JR will be with her. I won't see her either. Not good." Lindsay paused, brow furrowed. "Well, she'll have Michael and Ben and Grandma Deb. She'll be fine."

"Linds…" Brian interrupted. "Are you losing it?"

"There's really nothing tying me to Pittsburgh." Lindsay continued thinking out loud.

Brian got up and stood right in front of her, grabbing her by the shoulders and giving her a hard look. "Do I need to call the paramedics?"

"What?" Lindsay looked into Brian's eyes, startled. "Brian what are you talking about?"

"You're wandering around in circles babbling to yourself. Thought I'd save myself the drive and call the ambulance to take you to the asylum." He paused until he was sure she was listening. "Lindsay, what is going on?"

"I think I've solved it, Peter."

"And what have you solved, Wendy?"

"What I'm going to do next! It's all going to be okay."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"We're going to Never-Never-Land." Lindsay replied with a smirk.

Brian shook his head. "I'll just get the phone, make that call."

Lindsay grinned as she laid it out for him. "Gus and I are moving to New York."

For the first time in years, Brian Kinney was shocked almost speechless. "Fuck me."

"Been there. Done that." Lindsay Peterson responded with a quirky smile before continuing.

"Why don't we try something new? Let's be neighbors."


	11. Chapter 11 Fate Steps In

**Chapter 11 – Fate Steps In**

When you paint, you don't have to think.

Justin Taylor stood in Brian's loft, on a huge expanse of tarp, stopping his painting for a moment to look at the partially completed piece. In the foreground, a man stood alone on a city roof-top, looking out over a bay, his hair moving in the gusting wind, his stance defiant in the face of the oncoming storm. The last light before the dark reflected off a tall building across the bay, an unreachable safe haven.

Justin had been painting since he got the call that morning. His left hand was working now, kneading the muscles in his right wrist where he still suffered from the aftereffects of the bashing on the night of his prom. Flexing his wrist to stretch the muscles, Justin reached for his brush, his face contorting slightly from the pain.

Brian entered the loft, the sound of the sliding door masked by the music screaming out of his stereo. Heavy rock - no words, just sound pulsing, filling the loft. He watched Justin, transfixed. The younger man's entire being was focused on the painting, the intensity of the experience drawn in every muscle of his body. His shoulders and back filled with the strain. Normally, when Justin painted, he looked relaxed, smiling as the images in his mind flowed onto the canvas. This was not relaxed. This looked like a compulsion was driving him to finish. It looked like it hurt.

Brian walked through the loft to the bedroom, changing out of his suit into a T-shirt and jeans. He walked back into the kitchen, opening the fridge for a bottle of water, and sat on the couch to watch Justin work. It was impossible not to.

Justin was putting the finishing touches on the painting when the brush fell to the floor as his hand suddenly spasmed. "Fuck!" he whispered. "Not now." Brian grimaced with sympathy as Justin hunched his body over his hand, flexing it.

Getting up from the couch, Brian gently took the hand in his own. He could feel the muscles pulsing uncontrollably under his touch. He started to massage the hand and wrist. Over the years, Brian had learned many techniques to ease Justin's pain. Brian could now feel which muscles needed to be manipulated, which ones left alone. As he worked, Brian used everything he knew and was rewarded when he could feel Justin slowly relaxing.

"I guess I'd better take a break," Justin admitted, licking his lips lightly, staring at Brian's mouth. "But, Brian, I don't want to think."

Brian lifted an eyebrow slightly, questioning. Justin's eyes were bleak. When Justin didn't speak, Brian gave him a half-smile. "I can help with that." He leaned in for a light kiss, caressing. He drew back, looking for a change. Not there yet. He tried again. Sensing the second that Justin's focus shifted from his own thoughts to Brian, Brian came back in hard, devouring Justin's mouth, possessing him.

Brian's hands went under Justin's shirt, stroking the muscles. As Justin reached to do the same, Brian drew back again, guiding the pair to their knees on the tarp. Slowly, Brian started removing Justin's shirt, stroking as he moved the shirt up. When Justin lifted his arms to help, Brian tore the shirt off the rest of the way, throwing it aside carelessly. A second later, Brian's t-shirt joined it.

The two men went down on the floor. When Justin reached for Brian's pants, Brian took Justin's hands and held them out from his body. "Just relax," was whispered against Justin's neck, followed by a quick nip on his ear. Justin lay back, hands grasping at air, body shifting restlessly, waiting for Brian. Brian went to work, removing Justin's clothes while playing with his body - stroking, kissing, touching everywhere. When he could feel the heat pouring off Justin, Brian stripped and they were naked, lying together.

Brian focused on Justin, watching every response, needing to take Justin away from his thoughts. Justin's eyes were closed, his breath heavy. Barely heard above the pounding music, the tarp made crackling noises as they moved. At each touch, Justin's muscles quivered, small sounds escaped his tensed lips. _Soon_, Brian thought. Justin's eyes suddenly opened, frantic. His arms came up to pull Brian in.

Brian started to move, letting the music drive the rhythm, wanting it to last. He was losing himself in Justin, in his scent, his touch.

The pleasure built, spiraling out of control. Brian felt Justin tense beneath him. It was time. Brian let himself go in the same instant as Justin.

After what felt like an eternity, Brian lay on the ground with Justin curled into his chest, wondering what had prompted Justin's emotional turmoil. For six years Brian had watched Justin grow, mature. He was no longer the seventeen-year-old kid who cried at rejection. Justin was now a man that could take a hell of lot of pain, but something had happened to shatter his control.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

Brian could feel Justin's body move with the breath he took.

"They got the blood work back this morning." Justin's voice cracked with emotion.

Brian held his breath.

"I'm not a match."


	12. Chapter 12 Hanging with Friends

**Chapter 12 – Hanging with Friends**

Evening at the diner.

Brian and Justin arrived first, sitting side by side in the corner booth, dressed for a night out. Hunter came up to drop off some water.

"Your step-daddies coming out tonight, or are they planning to revel in domestic boredom?" Brian drawled.

"Last I heard, Michael's coming, but Ben's home nursing a cold. He wants to take care of it so it doesn't turn into something worse." Hunter's face had sobered as he talked, the shadow of the illness he shared with Ben in his eyes. His face lit up with a sudden smile. "Michael's been hovering. He wanted to stay home, but Ben's kicking him out - says Michael's driving him nuts."

"That's a Novotny for you. Sometimes Novotny's care so much you want to kill them." Brian's quip was loud enough to carry across the diner.

"I heard that." Debbie Novotny's voice floated back across the crowded room, followed almost immediately by the woman herself, complete with red wig, red vest and purple T-shirt featuring the words _"Redheads do it better."_ As Hunter took off, he gave Brian a pitying grin.

Debbie stood beside the table. "Now you listen. Don't you give Michael a hard time if he wants to take care of Ben." Debbie's expression softened at the sight in front of her. Without thinking about it, Brian's hand was in Justin's hair, playing with it as he slouched elegantly against the wall. A mischievous twinkle came into her eyes, "Being a selfish bastard is your job, not his."

Brian smirked back "And it's so satisfying to have an occupation I can do well."

Debbie grinned in appreciation of the comeback and shifted slightly to allow Michael to give her a kiss as he arrived with Emmett and Ted. Ted and Michael slid into the bench across from Brian and Justin while Emmett took the facing bench.

Debbie was about to take the orders when she noticed the newcomers at the door, looking around. Her voice could be heard throughout the small restaurant, "Look, Justin, it's your new boyfriend."

"What?" Justin sat up in surprise and waved John and Marc over to join the group. Emmett slid into the bench beside Justin to make room. Brian took advantage of the opportunity to pull Justin in closer, laying his arm protectively along the back of the bench.

Justin performed the introductions as John and Marc took the facing bench and then asked the obvious question, "What are you guys doing in Pittsburgh?"

"Marc has a Sunday afternoon game here. I called Brian for a meeting as an excuse to tag along," John responded. "Didn't Brian tell you?"

Emmett, who had heard all about Justin's pretend boyfriend from Debbie, commented slyly, "Wonder why Brian neglected to mention that?"

In response, Brian's hand came up and hit Emmett lightly on the back of the head.

Emmett gave a small shudder. "Don't touch me."

"Well, it's nice to see you boys again," Debbie looked sternly at Marc. "How much longer are you and Sunshine going to play boyfriends?"

Marc smiled in response, looking over at Justin. "My agent says the negotiations are almost over. I expect a signing party soon, possibly next weekend. Any chance you'll be back by then?"

Justin thought for a moment "I still have a few things to do here, but I should be back by Thursday at the latest. At least now I can afford the flight, thanks to John."

"I only sped things up a bit," John demurred. "Success was inevitable given your talent."

"You got that right." Deb's face lit up at the compliment. "Our Sunshine's a fucking genius." Hearing the bell sound behind her, Debbie got back to business. "Now, what can I get you boys to eat?"

A round of orders came, concluding when Marc ordered two different plates of pasta, a hamburger, a large salad and a piece of pie.

Debbie's face grew concerned. "You must be starving. Didn't you eat anything today, honey?"

At Marc's matter of fact, "No, I ate," Debbie gave a flabbergasted response of "Are you sure you're gay?"

John chuckled as he answered. "I'm sure he's gay."

Grins and laughs broke out around the table. Debbie frowned at the group "What? I've worked here for years and I've never seen a gay man who didn't watch every calorie."

"Oh, he watches his calories all right. He has to make sure he gets enough." John continued "Hockey players need five or six thousand calories a day during the season."

"Where do I sign up?" Ted joked.

Brian gazed at Ted "Planning to return to your days of over-indulgence, Theodore? If I recall it didn't do much for your shape."

"What are you talking about? I stayed in shape," Ted protested. "Round's a shape, isn't it?"

As groans filled the air, Debbie left to fill the orders.

"You know, guys, I could use a bit of help." Emmett went on to explain his new job at the Chelsea station. "So do you boys know any good candidates?"

Michael grinned "What about Dungeon Master Don? He's got a few kinks and he likes you."

"Only one problem, Michael - he still wants to mummify me." Emmett gave a delicate shudder. "I'll do a lot for fame and fortune, but I think that's going just a wee bit too far."

A few more suggestions were thrown around, but Emmett was looking at John and Marc. "The show will be based in New York. You two know any good candidates?"

John Avery, scion of one of New England's finest families, creased his brow as he thought for a moment. His mouth opened to start to speak, then closed as he puzzled through the problem. "Let me see if I've got this right. You want me to help you find people who want to go on TV and talk about their unusual sex lives."

Emmett smiled hopefully. "That's right." At the look on John's face, Emmett asked "Is that a problem?"

"No, not really," John started slowly. "It's just that most of the people I know would pay large sums of money to make sure that never happens. I can think of people who would make excellent participants in your show, but I'm not sure if they'd do it." John started to laugh. "It'll certainly make for interesting dinner conversation."

Marc spoke up "I can introduce you to some people."

John gave Marc a startled look. "Who? I can't think of anybody."

"I did have a life before I met you." Marc responded calmly.

"Why didn't you ever mention them before?"

"It never came up." Marc shifted on the bench.

"We've known each other for over a year." John said incredulously.

Laughs sounded around the table as Emmett gave Marc an expectant, "Do tell".

Before Marc had a chance to reply, Debbie and Hunter arrived at the table with the orders. "Here you go." She placed his order in front of Marc. "Tons of food for the hockey player." The remainder of the orders got passed out. "Next to no food for everybody else."

Marc looked up with a grateful smile. "Thank you, ma'am. Great timing."

Debbie looked puzzled for a moment then shook her head slightly and turned to Justin, her mind clearly elsewhere. "Sunshine. Did I hear you say you're heading back to New York this week?"

"I've got a few things to do before I take off and I'm planning to have dinner with Tucker and Mom. I'll head out later this week."

"Have you gotten over your objections to the oh-so-young Tucker then?" Michael questioned with a smirk. "I seem to recall somebody being upset over their mommy's boyfriend."

Justin looked over at Michael and responded without thinking. "At least I didn't get myself arrested over my mother's boyfriend."

"You got arrested?" Debbie questioned Michael in a voice could be heard on the street. "Over Carl?" Michael and Justin both winced.

"Thanks a lot, Justin," Michael snarled.

"Sorry?" Justin mumbled an insincere apology, fighting off laughter.

"Just couldn't keep your big mouth shut, could you, you little twat." Brian grabbed Justin with a mock wrestle.

Emmett piped up. "I thought you loved his big mouth."

Debbie stared at Michael in shock. "I can't believe you were arrested." She then scowled at Brian. "This is all your fault."

"Hey," Brian protested incredulously, "What the fuck did I do?"

"Got arrested with Michael," Justin whispered in Brian's ear.

Debbie's eyes narrowed as she turned to Justin "What was that?"

Brian gave Justin an aggravated glare. "Wait until I get you alone."

"I'm looking forward to it," Justin leaned in for a kiss.

"Ma, leave it alone," Michael interrupted. "It happened a long time ago."

Debbie wore a look of intense frustration. With a glare at Michael to warn him she wasn't done yet, she turned to where Justin and Brian continued to kiss. "Hey, you two, cut it out. I'm talking to Sunshine."

Justin obediently pulled away from a protesting Brian. "What is it, Deb?"

"Are you going to see your father before you go?"

"I don't know. Mom told me that he blamed me because we weren't a match. He's not doing well; apparently he's very hard to match." Justin bleakly continued, "Molly really wants me to go, but I think she might be disappointed when the sight of me sends him to an early grave."

"That's a good reason to go. You could save him the pain of a long, lingering death." Brian interjected, his face darkening at the thought of another encounter between Justin and his father. "It's a good thing that the cancer is going to get him. It saves me the bother of killing the bastard myself."

"Brian," Michael protested.

"What?" Brian returned, mimicking Michael's tone of voice perfectly. "He tried to kill me first."

"He's still Justin's father." Michael said grimly. "And he's dying."

"So what? He's still a homophobic bastard. Dead is a great place for him to be."

Marc looked up from where he had been methodically working his way through his massive meal to see Justin's face pale at the discussion of his father's imminent death.

"I'm starting to hate food," he said to no one in particular. The comment was so unexpected that it stopped the burgeoning fight in its tracks. "I can't wait until I don't have to eat so much." Marc smiled gently over at Justin. "I take it your father doesn't approve of gays?"

Justin shook his head. "That would be an understatement."

Marc's quirky grin warned of a change of subject as he turned to John. "Did I ever tell you how my parents reacted when they found out I was gay?"

John smiled back, "No, I don't think you ever did."

"Well, my parents are a bit different." Marc started.

Michael's heartfelt "I know the feeling," caused Debbie to vent some of her irritation by slapping Michael on the back of the head.

"Ouch! Ma, that hurt."

Marc was chuckling as he continued his story. "I was just fifteen and I told Mom in the morning that I wanted to talk to her and Dad. Very dramatic. I spent the entire day practicing how I'd say it. My boyfriend, Zach, got to listen to my little speech about fifty times." Marc's eyes started to twinkle at the memory. "Anyway, I got home after school, sat my parents down and told them my big secret. I didn't know what to make of it when they both burst out laughing."

"What?" exclaimed Emmett. "They thought it was funny? What kind of parents are they?"

"The best," Marc said definitively. "When he stopped laughing, Dad got up, handed Mom twenty dollars and said he'd never bet against her again. Turns out that they had a wager about what I was going to tell them." Marc started to laugh again. "Then my mother tells me that Zach had better come over for dinner soon or she's going think I'm embarrassed by her."

"She knew about your boyfriend?" Justin interjected. "Hold on a sec. What was your dad betting on?"

"Oh, he was betting I was going to tell them I wanted to be a pro hockey player."

John stared at Marc, puzzled. "You must have been playing for years. Why would that be cause for a big announcement?"

"Well, my dad thought that I'd be worried about my mom's reaction." Marc shook his head in disbelief. "He really does lose every bet."

"Why would he think that?" asked Ted curiously.

"Mom's a flower child, a pacifist who believes that you should never resort to violence. Hockey can get pretty rough." Marc's face softened with nostalgia. "She's an artisan, works with glass. Dad took time off from his practice each summer and we travelled the craft faire circuit selling her work."

Marc came out of his memories and grinned. "After she won the bet, she reminded my dad that she was the one who introduced me to hockey. She thought I needed a better way to vent my aggression than hitting my brothers."

"How many brothers do you have?" Michael had always wanted a big family.

"I'm the seventh son of a seventh son." Marc said solemnly before cracking a smile. "You wouldn't believe how much my mother goes on about that." Marc glanced speculatively at John, "You've never told me how your family reacted when you told them you were gay."

John sighed. "No, I haven't. I'm afraid the story isn't nearly as interesting as yours."

"I'd still like to know," was Marc's patient response.

"Let's see, I told my father and brothers when I was nineteen. After lecturing me about withholding information, Anthony and my father started analyzing their business contacts to assess the need for damage control when word got out. You may not have noticed, but there are some homophobes out there."

"We've noticed," came from several corners of the table simultaneously.

John nodded in agreement. "Peter, the one that manages Marc's hockey team, asked me why I thought it mattered since he'd known for years. Peter thinks he knows everything." John's lips quirked up on one side, a wry smile. "The irritating thing is he usually does."

"My mother and I don't talk about it since discussing such things is simply not done. I'm sure she knows."

"What kind of mother is that?" asked Debbie.

"I'd take her over mine any day," Brian quipped.

John tossed a grin at Brian. "My twin sister Catherine found out when we were sixteen." John's face turned serious. "She promptly provided me with a list of names of guys who had turned her down and asked me to find out which ones were gay."

"And did you?" queried Ted.

"Well, I wasn't stupid. I took the list. I was pretty inexperienced before I got it. After checking it out, I wasn't. She liked older men. That's the whole story, pretty simple really." John glanced over at Brian expectantly. "What's next?"

"Babylon."

"You'll love it," Justin added. "Of course, I haven't been there since the reopening."

Ted raised his glass "To Brian, for fixing our horny homo home."

"Don't blame me, Theodore." Brian grimaced, "I would have let the place rot, a monument to hetero hatred."

"Why didn't you?" John enquired.

"Theodore and Mikey kept nagging me."

"Like you've ever done anything you didn't want to." Michael smiled across the table at Brian, a small peace offering after their earlier squabble. Brian's face lightened as he returned the smile.

"Let's go." Justin was suddenly impatient to get dancing. As he moved out of the booth he remembered something and looked over at Ted "Unless we're waiting for Blake?"

"No." Ted's response was certain. "One of his clients has hit the panic button. Blake's gone to the rescue."

"You know, Theodore. I wasn't sure what you saw in Blake." Brian's smile took on a bit of an edge as he moved out of the both and put his arm around Ted for moment. "But now I see it. It must be handy for you to have an in-house addiction counselor."

Ted grinned, shaking his head at the comment. It had been a while since Brian had come up with new material and it was great to see him back on form. Still, a response was required.

"Fuck off, Brian."


	13. Chapter 13 Babylon

**Chapter 13 – Babylon**

Ownership had some privileges.

Brian smiled to himself as he walked his guests past the line-up to the security guard. "Troy, please add Marc Ryan and John Avery here to the VIP list."

The muscular man took their ID's and stood back to let Brian and his party in. "Certainly, sir. If you gentlemen care to check in later, we'll have your passes ready for you. Also, sir, Tricia needs to speak to you about a small matter when you have a moment."

Brian leaned in to Justin, "Why don't you show Marc and John around while I go see what Tricia wants? That way we won't be interrupted later, when it's less convenient."

"Sounds good. Find me on the dance floor," Justin lifted his eyebrows, "or in the back room when you're done."

Brian smiled at the impish look on Justin's face. "Have fun. This shouldn't take too long." Brian pulled Justin in for a demanding kiss.

"Well, that kick-started things." Justin gave Brian a slightly desperate look. "Hurry."

The men walked through to Babylon. Justin looked around and thought, _Same men, same lights, same music, _and smiled_. _"Let's dance."

"Why don't you guys get started and I'll get us some drinks?" John offered.

"I'll give you a hand," said Ted with a nod towards the back corner of the club.

Emmett, Michael, Justin and Marc made their way to the dance floor, moving to the _thumpa, thumpa_ beat. Justin watched curiously and concluded that Marc had been out dancing more than once. After a few minutes, Marc stripped off his sweater, revealing a perfect torso wrapped in a tight, shimmering, emerald-green muscle shirt. Justin laughed at the look of pure lust on Emmett's face and pulled Marc's head teasingly down to his, "Looking good, boyfriend."

Ted and John grabbed the drinks and maneuvered to a spot where they could watch the dancing. "Holy shit, John," Ted exclaimed as he caught sight of Marc moving sensually, larger than life and absolutely stunning.

"Tell me about it. Sometimes I wonder what he sees in me," John confessed. "Look at him. When you strip off the layers of civilization, the fancy clothes, he just becomes more - more gorgeous, more real. For most people, those layers hide the imperfections, he doesn't need any of it. For me, especially with my family, it's all about the layers."

"So what? You said you guys have been together a year, so he must want you." Ted smiled understandingly, "Let it go. Self-doubt is not attractive. Trust me, I know."

At that comment, the dancers arrived, ready for their drinks. Justin spoke up to be heard over the music. "I'm just going to take a quick look around, see what's changed. I'll be back soon."

Justin wandered through the club, greeting friends and acquaintances. As he moved into the back room, he caught sight of a familiar back, moving in time with a very fit redhead. "Hey, Todd, how's it going?"

Todd looked up from the wall he was braced on and gave an amiable smile. "Fine."

Justin left the back room and wandered the packed dance floor, looking for Brian, enjoying the Native American theme, turning down multiple offers. He finally spotted Brian off to the side of the dance floor, sharing a drink with their friends. Justin walked up and grabbed Brian from behind, pulling him in close. Brian turned and they started to move in time with the music.

"The place looks great, Brian and the crowds are even better," Justin yelled over the music. "I think every guy you've ever fucked is here."

Brian smirked, "Not a chance, Sunshine. Babylon couldn't hold them all."

Justin looked at his lover and decided to have some fun. "I've got news for you. You've been beat. You are not the guy on Liberty Avenue who has done the most tricks. If you ever were," Justin started teasing. There was a lot of mileage to be had out of this one.

Brian's offended look was priceless. "Who is it then?"

"Guess."

Emmett, overhearing the conversation, joined in. Tormenting Brian was, after all, one of life's great pleasures. "It's got to be Brandon. I hear he's been pretty busy lately."

"He couldn't beat me when he had a plan and a list," Brian retorted, arrogance personified. "I may have slowed down a bit, but no way has he sped up that much and you're counting totals. He's not even in the same fucking league."

John looked baffled at the turn the conversation had taken. "Why does it matter?"

"Exactly," Justin stared into Brian's eyes, going on with a mock serious tone. "That's what I've always wanted to know. Why does winning the fucking race matter?"

"It matters." Michael shook his head, laughing at Brian. "We might have history re-writing itself here."

"So, are you going to tell me who?" demanded Brian.

"Nope," Justin smirked. "You've got to guess, but I'll give you one clue. He's here, right now, in Babylon."

"You little shit." Brian started looking around the club, assessing. He mentally ran through the list of names in the VIP lounge. Lots of incredibly hot, very active men, but he couldn't think of one who had about thirty different tricks a month for years. He started looking around the club. "There is no one here who beats me."

Justin smirked. "I'll bet you five that when I say the name you'll agree, another five says you don't figure it out on your own."

Brian looked over at Justin, considering. "You're on."

"You guys only make five dollar bets? Isn't that a little cheap?" Emmett asked.

"Who says we're playing for money?" Brian pulled Justin in for a hard kiss.

Justin was laughing to himself when he spotted an incredibly hot guy standing alone on the side of the dance floor. "Brian, check it out," Justin muttered in his lover's ear, nudging him to look in the right direction.

"I've never seen him before, it can't be him." Brian's response was certain.

"That's not what I meant, but you answered my question." Justin didn't want to break the repeat fucks rule. "He looks hot." Justin tilted his head and gave Brian a challenging stare.

Brian looked at Justin, startled for a moment, then turned to look appraisingly at the newcomer across the floor. Justin had good taste. "You want to get him or should I?"

"I'll get him." Justin fell back easily into their hunt and fuck pattern.

"Wait, check that one out," Brian pointed out another gorgeous man maybe fifteen feet away from the first.

"Shit. Which one do you think?" Justin asked. "They're both hot."

With a wicked little smirk, Brian answered, "I know. Since this is the first time you've been back in the renovated Babylon, why don't we celebrate and get them both? Side-by-side fuck?" he offered brightly.

"Sounds good. I'll take right. Back room, loft or lounge?"

"Back room. I've got somebody I want to talk to when we're done." Brian started to move towards the left target, without another word to their friends.

"Later," Justin threw the word at the guys over his shoulder.

John watched in astonishment as they left. "Do they do this a lot?"

"Yes." Michael dryly stated.

John's amazement grew as both men rapidly acquired their targets and led them off to the back room. "Do they ever get turned down?"

"Not that I've ever seen," Emmett said lightly.

"Nope, don't think so," added Ted.

Michael contented himself with a simple shake of the head.

With a toss of his hair, Emmett turned to the rest, "Shall we keep on dancing?"

A short time later, in the back room of Babylon, Brian and Justin pounded the two men kneeling in front of them, synchronizing their movements with each other and the th_umpa, thumpa _beat that echoed throughout the club.

Periodically, they smiled at each other or leaned in to kiss.

When they were done, one of the two newcomers asked for a repeat. Brian looked over at Justin, smiled and said, "No thanks, pal, I've got something I've got to check out." With that, Brian continued to surprise by walking further into the back room.

When he found the man he was looking for, Brian leaned up against the wall where he'd be clearly visible. "Hey, Todd, how's it going?"

Todd smiled vaguely and said simply, "Fine."

Brian waited politely while the brown-haired, short man fucking Todd finished up. Then he continued, "Justin and I have a bet. He's telling me there's somebody here at Babylon who gets more tricks than me. I thought you might know who."

Todd leaned against the wall thinking for a moment, and then gave a negative shake of his head.

"It was worth a try. Thanks anyway." Brian, on spotting Justin being approached by several men, started walking toward him, but found his way blocked by a heavy-set man trying to get to Todd. The little dance they did to move past each other gave one of the men near Justin enough time to put his arms up to box Justin in, bracing himself on the wall on either side. Justin was laughing and shaking his head no as Brian came up and ruthlessly moved the other man out of the way. "Fuck off, pal." Brian grabbed Justin and started pulling him out of the back room.

They found their friends half way across the floor, underneath a platform where an Indian Chief danced in a breech cloth and feathered headdress. As Brian and Justin reached the group, Justin was laughing so hard he could hardly walk.

"What's his problem?" Michael wanted to know.

"Damned if I know. First he quotes Swift, '_There are none so blind as those who will not see,'_then he comes down with this disease where he can no longer talk or breathe and can barely walk." Brian looked at his giggling lover with a curious cross of affection and intense irritation. "See if you can do something with him, Mikey. I can't."

"Why don't I give it a try?" Marc reached over and held one of Justin's shoulders in place with one hand while manipulating a few spots in his back with the other. Justin's head suddenly flew back as he drew in a huge breath. Then his face went slack, his shoulders dropped and the giggles were cut off. Justin simply stood there, looking like he was in shock.

"What the fuck did you do to him?!" Brian yelled, yanking Marc's hands off Justin and placing himself between the two.

Marc held his hands open in front of him and backed a few steps away.

"Brian, calm down." Michael put his hands on Brian's chest, holding him back.

"No." Brian's intense response caused Marc to back up another step. "What did you do?"

"Brian, I'm okay." Justin's voice came from behind him. He stepped out from behind Brian to stare incredulously at Marc. "That was amazing. What did you do?"

"Just a little trick I picked up from an Indian healer. It instantly releases all tension in the upper body."

"Why would a hockey player be hanging out with a healer?" Emmett asked in astonishment.

Marc tilted his head to one side with a half-smile. "Seventh son of a seventh son, remember? I'm supposed to have either mystical healing powers or be a warrior in the fight against evil. My mom keeps introducing me to all sorts of interesting people."

Brian pulled Justin in protectively, glaring at Marc.

Michael was watching the scene, ready to jump back in if needed. It was definitely time for a change of subject. "Okay, Justin, give." Michael demanded. "Who's had more guys than Brian?

Justin looked up at Brian, "Are you ready for me to talk? You could still win half the bet if you figure it out."

Although he kept staring at Marc, Brian relaxed. "It's a bet I can't lose, so go ahead."

"The man who does more tricks than you is," Justin paused melodramatically for effect. "Todd."

Michael, Emmett, Ted and Brian all looked as stunned as they would have if Debbie had turned conservative in front of them.

"Who's Todd?" Marc asked, confused.

"A bottom who hangs out in the back room of Babylon," Emmett supplied, his face pensive as he pondered the possibility. "I think Justin might be right. Todd does an amazing number of guys back there."

"I've seen him with three different men tonight," Justin stated, "and it's early."

Michael looked at Brian thoughtfully. "You know, Brian, he might have something."

Brian looked arrogantly at his friends. "There is no comparison here. Skill and finesse have to count more than just leaning against the wall and letting all available cocks in."

Justin put his hand on Brian's chest consolingly. "The bet was for quantity, not quality. I agree there's no comparison there. But for sheer numbers, he's got you beat."

"Does he live here?" wondered Emmett. "I've never seen him anywhere else. He's like, I don't know, always there."

Brian started to laugh, "No, but he's usually first here, last to leave and we never make him wait in line. He also gets platinum VIP, no door fees and all the drinks he wants on the house. A totally willing bottom is very good for the bottom line." Brian took on a look of mock horror. "Damn, I've aided and abetted his stealing of my title." Brian's amused face, combined with his arrogant poise showed all how little the comparison bothered him. "All right, Sunshine, you win. When do you want to collect?"

"How about right now, back at the loft?" Justin pulled him down and started to kiss him.

"Justin," Michael interrupted before they could leave. "Do you want to come over tomorrow and work on Rage?"

"Sure," replied Justin, clearly distracted by Brian. "Oh, shit, I can't. Lindsay asked if Brian and I could join her and take Gus out tomorrow for a treat. I guess the little guy's depressed because Mel and JR aren't around."

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" asked Brian.

"I meant to," Justin continued apologetically, "it's not a big deal. She's coming to get us at ten and said to bring our bathing suits. I guess we're taking Gus swimming." Justin then moved his lower body enticingly against Brian's, "In the meantime, I just won a bet." Brian felt himself begin to harden and started to pull Justin off the floor.

"Wait!" Ted's curiosity could no longer be contained. "We all want to know. What's a five if it isn't five bucks?"

Brian looked at Justin questioningly; Justin shrugged to indicate he didn't care if Brian told. "Four on demand blow jobs and one anything you want fuck."

John immediately leaned in to make suggestions for similar bets into Marc's ear.

Michael, Ted, and Emmett looked stunned at the thought of Justin completely in control of what was going to happen back at the loft and at the possibility of Brian being topped by the blond.

"Brian," yelled Ted, "you don't mean _anything_, do you?" His voice carried to the couple as they moved away.

"It's a bet, Theodore," Brian's response reached Ted over the noise.

Justin looked back at the surprised men with a huge smile as Brian continued.

"Of course it's for anything."

* * *

_*A/N - If anybody wants to write how Justin collects on his bets, feel free. If you could start the title QAF NY and drop me a line when you publish - I'll enjoy reading it! _

_The same goes for writing any fillers or POV's on the story. All I ask is don't go ahead of me in time, I've got plans. Other than that, I'll do my best to integrate anything you write into my storyline.  
_


	14. Chapter 14 A Day Out

**Chapter 14 – A Day Out**

Brian couldn't move.

He stood just inside the door watching as Lindsay, Gus, and Justin walked away from him into the facility. He literally could not move. His feet were glued to the rough surface beneath them as sensory overload hit him.

Brian's eyes could barely take in the scene. In the air above his head, giant pipes painted in primary colors twisted through the air. A huge structure with rope stairs, ramps, and slides was off to the left. The smell of chlorine assaulted his nostrils, making them flare in reaction. The humidity and heat instantly covered him in a thin film of sweat. The screaming children, loud rock music, and running water combined into a cacophony through which his ears couldn't isolate a single sound.

Brian had never been to an indoor water park before. The Kinneys had not done things like amusement parks when he was growing up. He'd heard of them, but had never imagined this.

As he stood, trying to get his feet to move, an overweight balding man in a too tight pair of swim trunks decorated with Hawaiian flowers walked by him, eating a giant cinnamon roll. Brian suddenly found himself backing up towards the Splashing Fun Water Park exit.

Justin glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Brian start to move. "Oh, no! Go get him, Gus."

Gus went racing after his father, taking his hand and pulling him into the park. Justin arrived just in time to hear Brian's, "Sorry, Sonny-boy, I had a vision of the future and it made me run in horror. Pure fight or flight reflex," Brian gave a mock shudder. "It's under control now." Gus clearly didn't understand his father, but the reassuring smile Brian gave him sent the boy racing towards his mother.

Justin suspicious gaze caught Brian's eyes. "What exactly was in this vision?"

"Endless days like today, stretching into eternity before us."

"You shit!" Seriously annoyed, Justin continued. "What's wrong with today? You're with Lindsay, Gus, and me."

"Not that. I just realized what Lindsay's move to New York really means." The look on Brian's face told Justin he was kidding - mostly. "Endless days spent with hetero breeders. Fatherhood is scary." Justin's appraising gaze caused Brian to snap. "What the fuck are you staring at?"

"That's not enough to send you running out of the park and you know it. What's going on?"

"Nothing!" Brian snarled as he shifted his gaze away from Justin.

Justin reached up and grabbed Brian's chin, forcing Brian to look him in the eye. "I can tell there's more to it than that. What's happening in that warped mind of yours?"

"Fuck off," Brian jerked away from Justin.

"Brian!" Justin's concern caused him to grab Brian's arm and pull him around to face Justin. "Talk to me."

"I can't do it, all right!"

"Do what?"

"This!" Brian jerked his hand out of Justin's reach. "Take him to parks, teach him to ride a bike, help him with his fucking homework. The munchers were supposed to do it." Brian's face was twisted with terror as he shook his head, looking anywhere but at Justin. "I'm going to fuck up fatherhood and fuck up Gus with it."

"You're not going to fuck it up." Justin's voice was steady in the face of Brian's passion. "Are you listening to me?"

Brian glared at Justin, lifting a hand to indicate Justin should keep talking.

"My mother told me once that all the parenting self-help books are full of crap." At Brian's raised eyebrow Justin amended his statement, "Okay, not her exact words but close enough. She told me that you only have to do two things to be a good parent. You have to care and you have to be there."

"It's not that easy."

"Yes, it is," Justin's gaze compelled Brian to listen, "and I know you care."

Brian shook his head slightly. "I was never supposed to be a full-time father."

"I know – just an uncredited guest appearance." Justin's cynical smile told Brian how much he believed that. "But that's not the truth, is it? You care. You wouldn't be panicking if you didn't."

"I don't fucking panic."

Justin smiled at the arrogance inherent in the response. "It feels like a queen out to me." Brian's glare made Justin's smile broaden. "It's obvious you love Gus. You don't have to do this on your own. Linds and I will be there, too. Between us we'll get his homework done and if we can't, you can hire a tutor. Just be there."

"Just be there." Brian closed his eyes for a moment. "It sounds so easy."

"Don't worry." Justin gave Brian a small smile. "If you fuck up, Lindsay and I will let you know."

"Why do I find that reassuring?" Brian opened his eyes to meet Justin's gaze, "I guess we'd better get out there." Brian looked out toward the park, his face transforming as he fixed his gaze on a chubby, middle aged woman in a hideous, hot pink bathing suit. "Even with all that help, it's still a scary hetero world."

Justin started laughing at the look of horror on Brian's face. "I'm sure you'll survive."

Brian put his arm around Justin and started walking towards Lindsay. "Physically, yes. But my sanity, who knows?" Brian shook his head, pretending concern. "I'm going to have to fuck you all night long just to drive the images out of my head."

"If that's what it takes to save you," Justin responded with a grin as they walked into the park. "I can see why it would take a lot to make the image of that pink bathing suit go away."

Brian gave a mock shudder. "Wait until you get a load of the guy in the Hawaiian trunks. The sight almost drove me right out of the park."

They joined Lindsay where she stood watching Gus who was standing with a small group of excited children.

"I was wondering where you guys got to," Lindsay commented with an easy smile. She nodded towards Gus. "He's having a great time."

Justin suddenly had a totally wicked thought, "Brian, why don't you grab Gus? Let's check the place out," he suggested casually.

With a light shrug, Brian walked over to his hyper son.

"Justin, don't do it," Lindsay cautioned.

"Shh," Justin warned, laughing. "It's a once in a lifetime opportunity."

Brian knelt beside Gus, trying to understand what the little boy was saying. Gus pointed upward to show him. Brian looked up just in time to see a fifteen foot tall bucket with a hideous clown face start to tip over. He stared, trying to figure out what Gus was telling him. Some water sloshed over the side of the bucket. Brian barely had time to say "Oh, shit," before a deluge of water came down as the giant bucket tipped, instantly soaking him to the skin.

Brian stood up and glared at Justin as he stood laughing. The look of amused horror on Lindsay's face told Brian she had been in on it. Soaking wet, Brian's obvious irritation caused Justin to laugh harder and Lindsay to start backing away. A moment later, a sound broke through Brian's annoyance - Gus' laughter. Delighted with the soaking, Gus jumped up and down and grabbed Brian's hand to get his attention. "Mommy and Justin are dry."

"That's true. It's not right, is it?" Brian asked, "So how do we get them wet?"

Gus thought for a moment, "Hugs."

Brian nodded, "Not bad. Any other ideas?"

Gus grinned, seeing the opportunity to get what he wanted. "Wave pool."

"Let's do it."

With that, Brian set Gus down, took his hand and the two of them ran over to Lindsay and Justin, hugging them over their laughing protests. Then Gus grabbed Lindsay and Justin's hands started pulling them over to the wave pool.

The day that followed was simplicity itself - a family day at the park. Nothing unusual happened that day, nothing to mark it different than all the other days that make up a life. And yet, there are days where the simple becomes profound, the ordinary - extraordinary. Days on which decisions are made, and lives change forever.

The day at the water park was one of those days. When Brian looked back at it in later years, he would recall mental pictures, snapshots. Justin laughing as the giant bucket of water tipped. Lindsay's scream as they went down the Cyclone together. Gus riding on Lindsay's back in the wave pool. The expression on Justin's face as he got hit by the giant water gun Brian helped Gus shoot. Gus' delight as Justin taught him to swim. Gus falling asleep in Brian's arms as they left the park.

Ordinary moments, every one.

And yet, they marked Brian's first family outing. He'd done similar things before, but even with his own family, he had been an outsider. He'd gone to parks with Michael and Deb. He'd been welcome, but it wasn't his family, it was Michaels. He had never really understood, never felt the emotions that run under such days.

For Lindsay and Justin, the day was magical. Brian was the man they had always known he could be - witty, sarcastic, arrogant, sexual, but also intensely loyal and loving to those few who had his absolute trust.

For Brian, although he could never articulate why, the day was something more. At the water park, for the first time, Brian wasn't the outsider. He was the center. They needed him. And the emotions that had threatened to overwhelm him in the morning returned and settled in to stay. On that day, a family was born. It would change and grow over the years, but the heart of it began at the Splashing Fun Water Park, when Brian decided that he not only could, but would, be a full-time father.

And an ordinary day became extraordinary.


	15. Chapter 15 Fatherhood

**Chapter 15 – Fatherhood**

"What do you want?"

Brian coolly observed the dying man as he entered the hospital room. "Nice to see you, too, Craig." Brian was dressed to kill in an Armani suit, striped shirt, red tie, and designer overcoat. "I heard you were sick and thought I'd drop by."

"To gloat, no doubt." Craig lay back on the hospital bed, a shadow of the man he had been. The chemotherapy and radiation treatments had taken a toll. Pale skin and thinned hair told the tale of Craig's treatment regime.

"Oh, absolutely," Brian gave a lethal smile. "I also had this hope, unfortunately unfulfilled, that the mere sight of me would kill you off before your son drops by for a visit."

"Justin's coming? Why?"

Brian casually took off his coat and threw it over a chair before answering. "Two reasons, really. Molly asked him to and, although he won't admit it, I believe he wants to try for a deathbed reconciliation." There was no hint in Brian's voice of his fury at Justin's decision to visit his father. Brian had done his damnedest to dissuade Justin, but the blond had simply distracted him repeatedly. Justin was now at Michael's, working on Rage, but Brian expected him to arrive at the hospital within the hour.

Craig looked thoughtful for a moment before asking, "Why are you here? I don't think you're here to make nice."

"Definitely not. You're not my type." Brian's grimace showed his distaste for Craig. "I thought that if you had some warning Justin was coming, you might decide not to be a complete asshole this time."

"How I deal with Justin is none of your goddamned business."

"Not true. Every time you deal with Justin, I get to pick up the pieces."

"Everything I've ever done, Justin caused with his depraved lifestyle."

Craig's rationalization irritated the hell out of Brian. "In the years I've known Justin, you've thrown him out of his home, had him arrested and tried to kill me, you sanctimonious bastard." Craig flinched at Brian's tone. "You're quite the father."

"What the hell do you know about being a father?" Craig snarled.

"More than you. I finished raising your son and have one of my own. I do know this is your last chance," Brian grimly informed Craig, "because your son won't be back."

"He's not my son. He hasn't been my son since he started sinning with you. You're both going to burn in hell."

"Christ!" Brian's disgust forced Craig to look at him. "What is it with you people and hell? Do you know what God's thinking? Does he speak to you?" Brian's face twisted with contempt. "I'll tell you one thing, Craig - if I were you I wouldn't be worrying about Justin's soul, I'd be worrying about your own."

"What? I've done nothing wrong."

"Remember cheating on your wife? How about driving your car into mine? You have a pretty damned flexible definition of wrong."

"I confessed my sins. God forgives me."

"Makes it so fucking easy, doesn't it?" Contempt laced Brian's every word. "You don't have to deal with the real people you hurt, just some almighty God who's guaranteed to forgive you."

Craig opened his mouth to respond, but started gagging instead. Brian looked on dispassionately for a moment before going to the side table, pouring some water and passing it to Craig.

Brian watched as Craig drank. "The nausea's the worst."

"How would you know?" Craig asked as he relaxed back against the cushions.

"Guess." Disdain laced Brian's tone.

Craig looked curious. "What kind?"

"Testicular."

Craig started to chuckle at Brian's response.

"I can see where you'd find it ironic," Brian smiled thinly, "but, unlike you, I'm cured."

Craig's laughter cut off abruptly at Brian's pointed statement. "You really are a bastard, aren't you?"

"Only with people that really matter." Brian shot back sarcastically, taking the cup from Craig, set it back on the table and took a deep breath, "Justin will be here soon. You lose this chance, it won't come back."

"I lost Justin a long time ago. I have nothing left to lose except my soul by allowing his homosexuality." Craig's face hardened with determination. "I'm dying. That's not going to happen."

Brian started to move towards the door. "I don't know why I bother. People like you can't change." He started to open the door when he suddenly turned around. "Actually, I do know. I did it for your son. He's the type of person who tries to save his sick fuck of a father even if he has no reason to do so. I would have let you rot. And we both know you wouldn't help him. Guess that makes Justin a better man than both of us." With that, Brian exited the room.

* * *

Justin sat at the counter in Michael's shop, sketching. "What if we have J. T. temporarily develop some super-abilities? It'd drive Rage nuts. We'd need two bad guys to fight, but that shouldn't be hard. J.T. could save Rage."

Michael responded from where he stood cleaning. "Sounds like my kind of fun." He set down his rag and walked over to Justin. "I miss working like this. If we set up a couple of large screens and web-cams, we could keep working after you get back to New York. We haven't made much progress in the last couple of months."

"I like it, but just be warned, the next couple of months are going to be pretty busy. Finding a new place for Brian and me; helping Lindsay and Gus settle in." Justin set down his pencil, face serious. "Have you talked to Mel since Lindsay left?"

"Yeah. She agrees with Linds that it's over. She said that they were either not speaking to avoid fighting, or fighting. She didn't sound angry - just tired." Michael's face broke out into a smile. "She can't practice law in Toronto. She's not making enough so she's coming back to Pittsburgh. She and JR are coming home."

"Michael, that's great! You'll get to see JR all the time." Justin frowned suddenly. "Does she know Lindsay's moving to New York?"

"Yeah, but I think she might try to talk Lindsay out of it. She wants to be able to see Gus."

"Shit. Brian's really looking forward to seeing Gus all the time. So am I." Justin picked up his pencil with a sigh, "Brian won't force the issue. He'll just say that Lindsay has to decide."

"He'd be right." Michael reached over to touch Justin's hand lightly. "I just wanted to say that I'm glad Brian's moving to New York. He hasn't been himself since you left." Michael grinned. "Let me rephrase that - he's been too much by himself."

"Thanks." Justin's huge smile lit up his face. "It means a lot for you to say that." Justin looked at the clock. "Well, if I'm going to leave tomorrow, guess I'd better go visit my father."

"Why are you bothering?" Michael asked curiously.

"Because I'll regret it if I don't give it one last try." Justin shook his head. "It's hopeless, but I guess I still have a little hope left." Justin stood up and gave Michael a hug before starting for the door. "I'll talk to you after I get back to New York."

* * *

Justin exited the cab with a painting in hand and walked to the entrance of the hospital, surprised at the sight that greeted him. "Brian, what are you doing here?"

"You didn't think I'd miss the show, did you?" Brian smirked, making light of his presence at the hospital.

Justin smiled, shaking his head. "Of course not, but I wish I could." He looked at the entrance and sighed. "I guess I'd better go do this. Brian, could you stay out while I talk to him? The sight of you would probably set him off."

"Whatever you want."

Justin knocked on Craig's door before sticking his head in. "Is it all right if I come in?" At Craig's nod, Justin walked in, taking in the plain walls, the lack of flowers and his father's emaciated figure. "I thought I'd say hi before I head back to New York."

"What's that?" Craig asked, pointing at the painting in Justin's hand.

"Something I painted that I thought you'd like." Justin pulled the protective covering off the painting revealing an image of Molly, sitting under a tree on a beautiful day.

"It's beautiful. Thank you." Craig's words were stilted. "You're very talented. How did your show go?"

Justin closed his eyes slightly. They were going to be civil. "Very well. Mom, Debbie and Daphne came up to see it. Brian flew in, too. The paintings are selling really well for a new artist."

Brian stood just outside the door, unashamedly listening to the conversation, when Molly appeared.

Molly gave Brian a quick hug and leaned in to him to whisper, "Is Justin in there?"

At Brian's nod, she continued - "How's it going?"

"Nobody's yelling yet. With those two, that's pretty good." Brian frowned slightly at Molly's conservative outfit, contrasting it to her usual black and red outfits. "What's with the Pollyanna clothes?"

"He's dying. He should be able to keep a fantasy or two alive." Molly's grin was as large as Justin's. "Shh!" she admonished as the voices in the hospital room resumed.

"Thanks for getting tested," Craig said. "They're having a hard time finding a match."

"Mom told me. Sorry I couldn't help."

The two men stared at each other, not knowing what to talk about. Craig suddenly frowned, "Do you mind if I ask you something? It's been bothering me for years."

"You can ask. I may not answer."

At Justin's cautious response, Craig smiled slightly. "Why Brian? I know you think you can't help being gay, but why him? I had him checked out years ago. He's not exactly…" Craig stumbled on the question – not wanting to be offensive, and not knowing how to phrase the question without insulting Brian.

"You had him checked out just before you tried to kill him with your car, didn't you?" At Craig's nod, Justin shook his head ruefully. "I always wondered what drove you to do that."

Craig shrugged his shoulders, "I lost it when I got the detective's report."

Justin chuckled, "Back to your question. Let me see I can help you summarize the problems. He's promiscuous as hell, twelve years older than me, and has a reputation for being a narcissistic son-of-a-bitch. Is that what you were trying to say?"

"That pretty much sums it up." Craig's eyes were smiling back. "Forgetting the whole gay thing for a moment - why him?"

Outside the room, Molly looked at Brian with wide eyes before starting to snicker. Brian shook his head at the girl and brought a finger to her smiling lips with a gentle, "Shh."

Justin glanced at the door. "He's never broken a promise. He was…" Justin searched for the right word, "amazing that first night together. He took me in when you made demands I couldn't live with. He helped me heal." Justin paused. "He's very … stimulating sexually," Justin grinned at his father's grimace, "and none of that would be enough except for one last thing."

Molly's grin widened at the look on Brian's face.

"What? What could possibly make you stay with that man? Is it because he was willing to pay for college?" Craig demanded.

"He was willing to pay for that even when I wasn't with him. Unlike you." Justin couldn't resist a small dig. "But that isn't why I love him. When you're with Brian, you can't coast through life. He demands more than that. He pushes until you see yourself clearly. Without him, I'd probably be finishing business school right now, pretending to be straight for you."

"Is that supposed to convince me he's good for you? Without him, you wouldn't have been bashed."

"Maybe."

Molly's hand came up and touched Brian's cheek, an attempt to relieve the pain she saw there.

"And maybe I would have died. He saved my life that night. I also wouldn't have made Rage, gone to art school, moved to New York, or a hundred other things that make up the person I've become." Justin smiled at his father. "I like that person. No apologies, no regrets."

Craig's hands clenched into the bedspread at Justin's words. "You should have regrets. What you're doing is wrong."

Justin stared in disbelief at his father's judgmental face. "You just can't get past it, can you? The fact that I fuck men. Is that why you never came to see me after I was bashed?"

"It's immoral. It's a sin and you're going to be damned for it." Craig's conviction-filled voice rang through the room.

Justin knew then that his father would never understand. "I know you believe that I can just get over it, but my world is different because I'm gay, and I like it. I wouldn't change if I could."

Craig's face hardened. "Then you're going to burn in hell."

"You cheat on Mom, and try to kill Brian, and I'm the one going to burn in hell? This is hopeless." Justin's face was sad as he turned to leave the room. "Good-bye, Craig."

The door opened and Molly entered, unshed tears glistening as she stared at her father. "I don't know you at all." Her voice cracked with emotion.

Craig sat up and reached out his hand to his daughter. "Molly, come here."

She shook her head. "People don't tell kids anything, but sometimes, we overhear what they're trying to hide." A single tear rolled down her cheek. "Let me see if I got it all. You kicked Justin out when he was seventeen. You never went to see him at the hospital after he got bashed. You wouldn't pay for college. When you see him, you tell him he's going to hell. You cheated on Mom. You tried to kill Brian." Molly swallowed hard, fighting the tears, as she looked at the father she'd thought she knew. "Did I miss anything major?"

"Molly -" Craig started to explain. "It wasn't like that. You need to…"

Molly cut Craig off "I think it was exactly like that. I don't know you. I can't believe I was stupid enough to think you and Justin could make up." Molly looked at her older brother, tears finally falling. "I'm so sorry I talked you into coming here today."

Justin attempted a smile for his sister. "It's okay, Molly. I had to give it a last try."

"Let's get out of here. I'll buy you a coffee. Maybe we can talk – really talk." Molly smiled slightly as she reached out and took Justin's hand.

"Molly, wait. I want to talk to you." Craig demanded from the bed.

The thirteen-year-old turned and looked at her father. "That's too bad, because I don't want to talk to you. Bye, Dad."

Brian held the door open as Molly and Justin left. He looked down at the broken man on the bed. "Gee, I guess you were wrong, Craig."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Craig's voice shook, still in shock over Molly's exit.

Brian's deadly gaze met Craig's. "You still had one thing left to lose."

* * *


	16. Chapter 16 Secrets, Secrets

**Chapter 16 – Secrets, Secrets Everywhere**

Hospital food sucked.

Brian sat in the cafeteria, sipping a hideous coffee, listening to Justin and Molly talk. The two of them appeared to be able to ramble endlessly about nothing in particular. Brian had known about Justin's irritating habit of babbling, but with two Taylors it looked like it could go on for hours. As Brian pondered the issue, Justin's face broke into a huge smile at something Molly said. At the sight of the smile, Brian couldn't help but smile back. Brian focused in on the conversation as Molly asked Justin what his plans were.

"I'm heading to New York in the morning," Justin explained. "It's going to be tricky finding two places together that suit Lindsay and Gus and Brian and me, so I want to start looking."

"Lindsay trusts you to find her a place?" Molly asked incredulously.

"She gave me a detailed list of requirements," Justin said ruefully. "The hard part is finding something she can afford in the same neighborhood as something Brian would like."

"What?" Brian interjected. "Lindsay and Gus are not going to live in a dump. We'll help her pay."

Justin's face lit up at Brian's words. "That's what I told her, but I don't think she believed me. Talk to her, okay?" Brian nodded. Justin smiled and continued discussing his plans. "I called up Ari, my roommate, and Emmett's going to move in there when I move out, so that gives me less than a month to figure it all out."

"When are you moving?" Molly asked Brian.

"I'll be travelling back and forth for a few years," Brian said. "I am planning to go out next weekend, though."

Justin grin widened. "John talked you into coming to Marc's dinner? What excuse is he giving his brother?"

"He simply said that they hadn't seen each other in a while. He plans to ask to bring his business associate along at the last minute." Brian smiled back. "I don't think he trusts you, Sunshine."

"He probably shouldn't. Marc's hot." Justin raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I'll be sad when we have to break up."

"I think John's planning the break-up fight now."

"Who's Marc?" Molly asked.

"A friend from New York I'm pretending to date," Justin answered.

"Why?"

Justin opened his mouth to answer, realized he didn't have a good explanation and started to laugh. "I don't really know. It just kind of happened. One little lie and it grew."

"Tell me about it," Molly said, thinking back to everything she had learned about her father. "Why didn't anybody tell me about you and Dad? I feel like you've all been lying to me for years."

"When most of it happened, you were eight years old." Knowing blue eyes met the same blue, laced with innocence. "You loved Dad. Nobody was going to take that away from you."

"I guess I understand, but I'm not eight anymore." Frustration leaked through as Molly asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"We don't talk about it. Even last year, when Dad had me arrested, you were only twelve years old." Justin's eyes drilled into Molly's, willing her to understand. "You didn't need to know about it. You still loved him."

"Only because I didn't know any of this!" Molly's raised voice drew glances. She paused, glaring at Justin. "Wait a second. He had you arrested?" Her incredulous volume garnered a "Shh!" from an elderly lady at the next table.

"Shit!" Justin looked disgusted with himself for letting that out. "Don't tell Mom you know everything."

"I'm going to have to - she's going to want to know why I'm not visiting Dad anymore." Molly shook her head, still in shock. "She divorced him. She'll probably be relieved when I don't want to see him." Molly took a deep breath in an attempt to focus. "Why did he have you arrested?"

"I went to the store to protest an anti-gay bill he was supporting." Justin face darkened at the memory. "He had me arrested to get rid of me."

"There are too many secrets in my life," Molly protested. "No more, okay? Tell me when stuff happens." Molly glared. "I still think you should have told me everything when I was bugging you to come see him."

"Don't worry about it, Molly." Justin reached out and touched Molly's hand. "I would have gone to see him even without you. He's dying."

"Justin!" The voice sounded from immediately behind Justin, and he turned to see who it was. The familiar face of the night shift nurse who had cared for him five years earlier smiled at him. "I can't believe this. " Her face lit up as she looked at Justin. "You look amazing. How's your hand?"

Justin got up to give Sarah a hug. She had been one of his favorite nurses. "It's doing great. I'm painting again. It still hurts at times, but it's not slowing me down."

"It's great to see you, and Brian." She beamed at the latter. "You're looking good, too. I bet it took you five years to catch up on the sleep you missed, didn't it?"

Brian smiled ruefully. "It wasn't that bad." Brian looked at Justin, waiting for the penny to drop.

"We all wondered what happened after you two left. I can't wait to tell the others that you're still together." Brian and Justin had been the topic of many conversations at the nurses' station.

Justin speculative look caused Brian to return a deadpan glare, one eyebrow raised. "We're still together." Justin continued to stare at Brian as he responded to Sarah. "I'm living in New York and Brian's going to move there soon."

Sarah's smile lit up her face, "That's amazing. And here we wondered if you'd ever actually talk to each other." She laughed with delight. "I'd love to catch up, but I was done my break when I spotted you, so I've got to run. It's great to see you two." Giving a light wave, Sarah exited the cafeteria.

Justin sat back down, his expression speaking volumes. Brian's responding stare challenged Justin to say anything.

"Amazing how well she knows you, given that you never visited." Justin's sparkling eyes belied his flat tone as he struggled not to grin at Brian's predicament.

"It's sad when a nurse becomes delusional," Brian's teeth clamped into a tight smile, "maybe she shouldn't be nursing."

Molly's eyes widened a bit at the turn of the conversation. She made invisibility her goal. She had to hear this.

"You are so full of it. You were here, and more than once, judging by how well she knows you." Justin's face broke into a huge smile. "Spill it. When did you come?"

Sliding his eyes away from Justin's, Brian responded, "It doesn't matter now. It was ten years ago."

"Five," Justin corrected with a smile. "Brian, it matters. When did you come?"

"Frequently." Brian's face moved into the sneer he got when embarrassed. "Fuck it." He leaned back in his chair, staring into Justin's eyes. "Every night."

"Every night?" Justin's voice shook. "I was here for months. Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Only the nurses on the back shift knew," Brian scowled in the direction Sarah had left, "and that was obviously a few people too many."

"You were here every night for weeks and no one saw you?" Justin's raised voice caused Brian to wince. "When did you sleep?"

"I didn't." Brian's discomfort vanished, replaced with a raw look. "I couldn't."

"Why didn't you come in?" Justin asked quietly.

Brian hazel gaze filled with pain. "You know why."

Justin's hand moved until it touched Brian's arm. "It wasn't your fault. You saved my life."

"That's what they all say," Brian quipped.

"Because it's true," Justin asserted. An awkward silence reigned as Brian ignored Justin's comment.

Molly, stunned by the pain in Brian's face, decided to help lighten the mood. "Like I said - too many secrets. I read that if your boyfriend tells you a secret, you have to tell him one back to even up the scales." She grinned evilly at her older brother. "So Justin, do you have anything you want to tell Brian?"

Brian chuckled at Justin's dilemma, watching the expressions cross the younger man's face. "Don't worry, Molly. Widdle Justy doesn't have any big, bad secrets, do you?" At the look on Justin's face, all humor drained out of Brian's. "Shit. You do. "

"Just because Molly's read some stupid hetero teen magazine doesn't mean we have to follow her advice." Justin's refusal surprised Brian.

"What are you hiding, Sunshine?" Brian's face went stony as he watched Justin's fake look of innocence. "There's something you really don't want me to know."

Justin's face paled. "It's nothing. This is ridiculous."

"Who'd you fuck?" Brian asked baldly.

"I didn't …" Justin faltered, remembering how close he had come to fucking.

"The fiddler?" Brian asked harshly.

"NO!" Justin yelled, drawing the attention of everyone in the cafeteria. "I haven't seen Ethan in years." At the look of disbelief on Brian's face, Justin repeated it, "I haven't gone near him since I walked out on him."

"Then what's the secret?"

Justin looked around desperately, trying to find an excuse to avoid answering Brian. He looked into Brian's accusing eyes and saw pain. Whatever Brian was thinking, it wasn't good. Justin knew he couldn't leave it like this. Unconsciously mimicking Brian, Justin sat back on the chair with a muttered "Fuck it." Justin's eyes bored into Brian's, daring him to say anything. "It was Kip."

It took a second for it to sink in. "You fucked Kip!" Brian yelled. Brian got up, unable to sit as fury overtook him. "Why did you go near that son-of-a-bitch?"

Justin stood and got in Brian's face. "You idiot. I didn't fuck him. I just let him think I would and then I blackmailed him."

"You're the reason he dropped the harassment lawsuit?" Brian started to laugh for a moment before he made the connections and reverted to being pissed off. "What did you blackmail him with?"

"My age and my father," Justin shot back. "I got naked and then pointed that I was underage, talked about Dad's violent tendencies, and threatened jail. Then I asked him for a favor."

"You were alone with Kip, naked, and you threatened him! He could have killed you." Brian's voice carried past the doors of the cafeteria where Jennifer Taylor stood looking for her daughter. She closed her eyes briefly at the sight of Molly caught in the middle of an infamous Justin-Brian flame out.

"Unlike Hunter, I didn't fuck a murderer. Kip's an ineffective little cunt, and I knew it when I left Woody's with him." Justin stood toe-to-toe with Brian, glaring.

"You were seventeen! You didn't show shit," Brian's frustration with Justin screamed out of him. "I told you how to be careful and you went off with Kip?"

"He wasn't dangerous and you know it. What I can't figure out is why you wanted him in the first place. He was disgusting."

Molly's stunned "Hunter fu… slept with a murderer?" caused Justin and Brian to turn in shock at the reminder that they weren't alone.

Justin looked into eyes less innocent than they had been moments ago. He swallowed convulsively and swore under his breath. "Molly, I'm sorry. You didn't need to hear all that."

"It was pretty interesting." Molly gave her brother a wicked little grin, watching as her mother came up behind the two men.

Justin closed his eyes in remorse. "There's no excuse. I have no idea why I started channeling Brian and just let everything spill out."

"You should be so lucky." Brian smirked before turning serious. "Justin. Every time you see your father he throws you off balance. Father's can do that."

Jennifer's eyes softened sympathetically for a moment.

"Christ," Justin muttered, looking at Molly. "You cannot tell Mom you know any of this." Jennifer's eyes lost all sympathy.

"Too late," Jennifer announced. Justin and Brian whirled around to face her. "Not only do I know everything, but so does everyone else." Her glacial look took in both shamefaced men. "Thanks so much for sharing." Her glance around the cafeteria's stunned patrons highlighted the public nature of the fight. "Molly, we're leaving." With that, she turned and walked away.

Molly stood up, looked at her brother and grinned. "When you get your new place in New York, make sure it has a guest room." Justin rolled his eyes, causing her to reach over to give him a kiss on the cheek. She repeated the gesture with Brian. "See ya!"

Justin watched his sister hurry after his mother before turning to Brian. "You feeling a little exposed, too?"

Brian smirked. "Not as much as I'd like to be." He pulled Justin in for a lengthy, demanding kiss, then grabbed him around the shoulders and headed toward the exit. "We are not done with this conversation."

Justin closed his eyes as applause followed them out.

* * *

_*A/N - Please review. I love getting them and have been known to edit & change course based on them. Let me know what you like and don't like about the story._


	17. Chapter 17 Back in New York

**Chapter 17 – Back in New York**

Finding a place to live wasn't going to be easy.

Justin sat on the old sofa in the living room, surfing the net and pondering the requirements for a new place to live. There had to be good schools nearby, in addition to being high-end enough for Brian with a place close by for Lindsay. It had to have enough room for a studio, near business space for Kinnetic, and preferably close to Chelsea. So far, Justin hadn't come close. He thought for a moment and picked up the phone.

"Could I speak to John Avery, please?" Justin paused. "Tell him Justin Taylor's calling."

John's voice came on line a moment later. "Justin, what can I do for you?"

Justin gave a light laugh. "I'm finding it harder than I thought to find a place to live and I was wondering if you could recommend a good realtor."

"Sure. I have a cousin who's a realtor. She handles all the Avery business." John then rhymed off her contact information while Justin jotted it down. The two men spent a moment discussing the plans for the signing dinner before John closed the conversation. "I'll give Miranda a call and tell her to expect you. Allow me a few minutes to warn her you're going to call. She doesn't take walk-in clients. See you Friday."

Justin hung up with a feeling of satisfaction. Maybe Brian could get Miranda to help find an office for Kinnetic.

Justin pulled out the business cards he'd gotten at the show. Possible agents. He picked up the phone again.

"Lindsay, it's Justin." He smiled softly at her greetings. "Listen, I've got the cards of some agents from the gallery and wanted to get your advice."

"Why didn't you ask me when you were in Pittsburgh?" Lindsay questioned.

"With everything happening, can you believe I forgot the cards in New York?"

Lindsay's gentle laughter came across the phone. "I can believe it. Who have you got?"

"First up, Amanda Burns."

"She's not bad, but she tends to take on too many artists and then drops them at the first sign of trouble. Knowing you, trouble's inevitable."

"That's not fair. I never start the trouble." Justin grinned as Lindsay disagreed. "Next in line, Ronald Deacon."

"Stay away from him. He's got a reputation for high percentages and treating his artists terribly. I've met him. Can't stand the man – he's an all-round jerk."

"Okay – that business card just went in the garbage." Justin pulled up the next one. "Jared Bannerman"

There was a pause on the other end of the phone before Lindsay squealed. "Oh, my God."

"I take it that's good?" Justin asked.

"Good? It's amazing! The man only takes on a few artists, and they're all amazingly successful. He's the best - the absolute best. I met him at a show in Toronto. Don't bother giving me any more names. Just get off the phone and call him right now." Lindsay was almost babbling in her excitement before she collected herself. "Justin – don't sign anything before a lawyer and I review it, but call him now."

"Getting off and phoning. Love ya, Linds."

"Love you, too."

Justin dialed Jared Bannerman's number. "Hello, it's Justin Taylor," he began as soon as a voice came on the line. "You gave me your card at a show last week."

Jared chuckled t the young artist's eagerness. "Justin, I'm glad you called. I enjoyed your show."

"Thank you. I was hoping your card indicated an interest in representing me."

"It does. I'm surprised it took you over a week to call." Jared's questioning tone demanded a response.

Justin winced at the implied query. "I'm sorry. I didn't call because I had a family emergency and had to fly out. I learned on Sunday that my father is critically ill. I just got back in."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Jared paused for a moment before getting back to the point. "Why don't we meet and see if we can do business together?"

"Sounds good. Do you have a time and place in mind?" Justin responded.

Jared asked for a lunch meeting the following day at a restaurant near the art gallery. Justin agreed, leaning back with a satisfied smile. Things were really coming together. He picked up the phone to call Lindsay back.

"Hey, Linds," Justin began. "I thought you'd like to know that I'm meeting Jared for lunch tomorrow. He wants to be my agent."

"Justin, I am so happy for you!" Lindsay burbled over the phone. "You'll call me tomorrow and let me know what happens, right?"

"Absolutely. There's one other thing - a friend put me in touch with a realtor. Hopefully, I'll have some places for you to look at soon."

"That's great, Justin." Lindsay's voice softened. "Brian talked to me about living expenses. I don't know if I can accept." Justin could hear her sigh over the phone. "New York is really expensive."

"Lindsay, listen to me." Justin spoke authoritatively, willing her to believe him. "I talked to Brian about this before I left. He really wants you and Gus close. Don't let money stop you. He can afford it and it doesn't matter to him. You do. Gus does."

"But…" Lindsay started.

"No buts, Lindsay." Justin concentrated, trying to make her understand. "I know Mel is back in Pittsburgh. If you want to stay with Mel, I'll understand. But don't let money get in the way of our being a family. I'm begging you. Think of it as child support. Brian does."

"I can't stay with Mel. She tried to talk me into staying and I could feel myself drawn back to her." Lindsay's sadness streamed across the phone line. "I can't go there again. I'll have to take Brian up on his offer."

Justin listened, hating the defeated sound in Lindsay's voice. "Hey, listen. It's a chance to start over, do something new. You'll be amazing, I know it."

"At least I've got a nibble at a few jobs."

"That's great, send me the locations and we'll see if we can't find someplace close to live."

"I will. Justin – I'm so proud of you. I'm sure Jared will work out."

Justin's face lit up at the thought of the high-powered agent.

Lindsay continued, "Remember – don't sign anything until a lawyer and I have seen it."

Justin rolled his eyes, knowing Lindsay couldn't see him. "Don't worry. I'll talk to you later. Bye"

Just as Justin closed his cell phone, Eric walked into the room. He took a deep breath to steel himself and walked over to where Justin sat. "How are you doing?" Eric said sympathetically. "I'm sorry about your father."

Justin smiled at his roommate. "Me, too. Dad and I haven't gotten along in years, and the trip home didn't change that. I guess it was worth a try." Justin gave Eric a once-over. He looked like he'd just woken up, his hair mussed, dressed in a white t-shirt and sweats.

Cute.

"You seemed pretty excited when I came in, what's up?" Eric sat down on the couch beside Justin, enjoying the way Justin's face lit up.

"One of the agents who gave me his card at the show is supposed to be really good." Justin face shone with enthusiasm. "I'm meeting him tomorrow."

"That's wonderful," Eric grinned back, his amber eyes gleaming gold in the light. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the show when you were there. My advisor wanted to meet with me on Saturday and I had plans on Sunday. I dropped by the gallery on Monday when you were out of town. Your pictures looked amazing on display."

"I thought so, too," Justin eagerly agreed. "I liked it even better when all those discreet little SOLD signs went up."

"I can see why," Eric's happiness at Justin's success showed. "How was Brian?"

"Great!" Justin laughed. "I'm definitely feeling no stress today." Justin winked slightly to make sure Eric knew the kind of stress he was concerned about. "And he's coming back into town on Friday," Justin almost sang.

Eric laughed, "That's good." Eric looked off to the side for a moment, "Justin, can I ask you something?"

"Probably," Justin chuckled. "Depends on what it is."

"When did you know you were gay?" Eric's embarrassment made the question come out a bit more baldly than he had meant for it to, so he gave an apologetic shrug. "I mean really knew, not just thought maybe."

"Why are you asking?" Justin wondered.

"If you don't want to answer me, that's okay." Eric shifted uncomfortably. "I really need somebody to talk to right now and thought you might not mind."

Justin's brow furrowed slightly before he nodded. "Well, let's see. When I was thirteen, I started to suspect something weird was happening." Justin shook his head lightly. "I mean, all the guys in my class were obsessing about girls and I just couldn't care less. There wasn't a single girl in my class that I was interested in, and breasts just looked kind of spongy to me." He grimaced and Eric chuckled slightly.

Justin grinned wryly. "I could use a drink for this conversation. Want one?" At Eric's nod, Justin went to the kitchen and grabbed two beers. Passing one to Eric, Justin kept trolling through his memories. "I just thought I was a late bloomer. My mother used to describe me that way - I think because I'm short. Well, in some ways." Justin gave a cheeky grin and waggled an eyebrow at Eric, enjoying the laugh he got in response.

"When I was fourteen, I got hot looking at the swim team, and then there were the guys in the locker room. There was one guy in particular, Chris Hobbs. I used to fantasize that he was gay."

Justin's distant look caused Eric to reach out and lightly touch his leg. "Justin, are you okay? I don't have to hear this if it makes you uncomfortable."

Justin's eyes shifted back to the present and focused in on Eric. "I'm fine," he reassured. "The next big indicator would have been the internet."

"Why the internet?" Eric asked, laughter lurking in his eyes.

"Like all young men, I surfed for porn." Justin smiled at the memory of the first sighting of Jake O'Toole, gay icon. "Unlike most young men, I found the pictures of the girls decidedly unappealing." Justin broke off his reminiscences to shake his head slightly. "But the men, well that was different. I had no trouble getting a hard-on, so I was pretty sure."

"But not absolutely certain?" Eric prompted.

"Pretty sure by fifteen." Justin started to laugh suddenly.

"What's so funny?" Eric asked.

"Just remembering something." Justin shook his head. "When I was seventeen, I came out. My mom and I were having a hard time and she took me to see a counselor. The poor woman asked me if I had anything to say." He started laughing again.

"I take it you did." Eric hinted.

"I announced that I liked dick." Justin continued to chuckle softly as Eric stared at him in shock. At Justin's confirming nod, Eric started to laugh. "Then I told them that I liked sucking dick." Eric collapsed back on the couch, laughing. Justin joined him, bodies touching lightly. "I finished off by proudly stating that I was good at it." Justin laughed until tears ran out of his eyes.

They laughed together for awhile, Eric regaining control first, hiccupping softly. "My God, I can't believe you did that."

"I know. I was such a little twat." Justin wiped the tears from the corner of his eyes. "I can't believe my mother still talks to me with the all the stunts I pulled."

"Neither can I, if that's an example."

Justin looked at Eric closely, wondering. "Eric, why are you asking? I don't mind talking about it with friends, but it usually comes up after more than one beer."

"I don't know." Eric shook his head, irritated with himself. He sighed. "No, that's a lie - I do know why I asked. Lately, I've been feeling things I'm not used to. I just wanted to talk to somebody, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Justin reached out and lightly touched Eric's leg. "I used to talk to my friend Daphne all the time. It helped a lot." Justin frowned slightly. "Eric I've watched you watch Ari for over two months. If you're not in love, you're certainly in lust."

"True. That's what's killing me here. How can I want Ari and still have feelings for men?" Eric rubbed his sweaty palms on his legs before starting to laugh. "I am so screwed. I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Most people don't." Justin grinned. "So when did these feelings start? I want details."

Eric's face turned beet red. "Um…" he swallowed convulsively. Eric opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

"Eric?" Justin queried, puzzled by the look on Eric's face. "What's wrong? What did I say?"

"Christ," Eric muttered. "You asked the perfect question. I've always liked looking. Male, female, it didn't matter, but…" Eric leaned his head back and looked up at the ceiling. "The first time my body really stood at attention for a guy was a week ago, on the day Brian came for a visit."

Justin's jaw dropped. "You've got the hots for Brian? My Brian? And you're asking me for advice?" Justin looked stunned.

Eric paled slightly, but then continued. "I'm just trying to figure this stuff out. Nothing's going to happen between me and Brian."

"Not if I can help it," Justin murmured so softly, Eric couldn't hear him. Justin stared at his roommate speculatively. "We should experiment – to see which way you really swing."

"Justin, what are you talking about?" Eric's obvious confusion made Justin grin mischievously.

"Wait here. I need to make a quick phone call." Justin grabbed his cell phone and moved into the kitchen so Eric wouldn't overhear. He was startled when Ari came into the kitchen, but he didn't want to break the mood with Eric, so he just held up a finger to his lips.

"Kinnetics. Brian Kinney's office." Cynthia's voice came through clearly.

"Hi, Cynthia. Can I talk to him?" Justin asked.

"Sure. He's not due in his next meeting for 20 minutes. I'll put you through."

"Justin, how goes the house hunt?" Brian asked.

"I'm working on that, but that's not why I'm calling. You know our deal? The no kissing anybody else on the mouth deal?" Justin asked.

"Of course. Did you break the deal again, Sunshine?" Brian asked, his voice like ice.

"No." Justin swallowed hard and took a deep breath before continuing. "I want to break the deal and I'm calling to get your agreement up front."

"How hot is this guy and how far are you planning to go?"

"It's Eric, my roommate and just a kiss." Justin confided. Ari's eyes widened.

Brian snorted. "I thought he was straight."

"I thought he was straight, too. But he's not too sure."

"What?" Ari whispered.

Justin put his fingers to his lips and smiled at Ari.

Brian thought back, picturing Eric. Tall, brunet, gorgeous. "So, you're calling to ask about kissing your hot roommate"

"Yeah. Just to help him figure things out. Is that okay? One kiss, I swear."

"Sunshine, I taught you everything you know about kissing. I know how long one of your kisses can last." Brian took a breath. "Here's the deal. I get a blow-by-blow account of what happens and," he grinned evilly, "anything you do with Eric, I get to do with Eric."

"No way. You're the one he wants, not me."

"What?" Brian asked. "How'd you reach that conclusion?"

"He told me."

Brian huffed out a laugh. "That's the deal, Sunshine. Anything you get to do with Eric, I get to do with Eric."

"Shit." Justin looked back into the living room at Eric, who was pacing and muttering to himself. "Deal." Justin grinned at Ari and said, "Stay here," before walking back into the living room.

Ari leaned against the counter in the kitchen. That had been a very interesting phone call. And things were about to get even more interesting. She moved to door to the living room, watching the two men. God, Eric looked gorgeous. Months of wondering if he wanted her and Justin's going to move in first. Unbelievable. Ari's eyes narrowed with frustration.

"Okay, let's give this a try." Justin smiled, looking at the gorgeous, nervous brunet.

"Give what a try?" Eric demanded.

"The sight of Brian kissing is the ultimate turn on, so we need to experiment a bit to see what you really feel. Will guys make you stand at attention or run away screaming?"

"Huh?" Eric asked, feeling like a moron.

"I'm going to kiss you." Justin grinned. "Unless you don't want me to?" He quirked a brow questioningly.

Eric gulped and stood, frozen in place.

Justin licked his lips slightly. Eric's face paled as his eyes focused on Justin's mouth. Justin moved in, pulled Eric's head down and gave a light lick on Eric's lower lip. Eric gave out a small moan just before Justin opened his mouth and started to kiss Eric. Tongues caressing, lips touching, Eric felt the heat move from his mouth toward lower places in his body as the blood rushed and he started to harden. Justin glanced down and grinned slyly. "That's pretty definitive."

"Uh-huh," was the only response Eric could give.

Ari walked around the corner at that moment, her red hair loose and streaming down her back. "I'm not sure if it is or not," she exclaimed with a grin, "but that was hot, guys. You can kiss in front of me anytime, but for now I think a bit more experimentation is in order." With that, she walked up to Eric, pulled his head down, and gave him a slow, sensual kiss. Eric's arms moved of their own volition to wrap around her and pull her close. When Ari stepped back, she stepped back and stared at Eric with wide eyes. "Wow."

Eric looked from one to the other, then shook his head, threw up his hands and walked out of the room.

"Eric," Justin called after him as he and Ari started to move after him. "Are you all right?"

"Not really." Eric's voice came down the stairs.

"Eric," yelled Ari. "It's okay to be bi."

* * *

_*A/N - Chapter 2 - Experiments of my Story, QAF NY - Confused gives Eric's POV on this scene. You might find it amusing._


	18. Chapter 18 News from Home

**Chapter 18 – News from Home**

Justin decided to push. "I don't buy it."

Marc looked over at Justin where he stood ready to leave for the signing dinner. The two men were leaving from Marc's townhouse and would be joined later by Brian and John. "What do you mean?"

Justin's appraising glance made Marc fidget, a somewhat ridiculous sight on a six-foot-four inch tall man. "I've gotten to know you pretty well in the last month," Justin said, gazing steadily into Marc's blue eyes. "You don't care who knows you're dating John. This need to hide it during your contract negotiations … I don't buy it." Justin tilted his head, challenging Marc to continue lying.

Marc's wry half-smile acknowledged the point. "Very good. Fortunately, John's not quite as intuitive as you," the smile faded, "or he wants to believe it badly."

"I thought so," Justin responded. When Marc didn't explain, Justin prompted him again. "So why are we doing this?"

Marc got up, opened the fridge and took out a beer. He offered one to Justin, returning it to the fridge when Justin declined. "John and I had been dating for about three months when he had to go see his mother. He made up excuses not to take me - really bad ones." Marc shook his head in annoyance, taking a long drink. "It went on for a couple of months. I got tired of it, so I asked him why he was hiding me. He denied it."

"He's not embarrassed by you," Justin thought out loud. "His family knows he's gay." Justin brow furrowed as he thought about John's odd behavior. "Weird."

"I agree. I got to know Peter and he's a pretty normal guy, but John never told him." Marc's normally plump lips thinned. "I decided to let John off the hook for a while. I gave him the excuse about not dating the brother of the man I'm negotiating with. He latched on to it. I don't think it ever occurred to him that the excuse had a time limit." Marc's eyes turned hard. "It just ran out."

Justin bit his lip. "You're going to force the issue tonight, aren't you?"

Marc nodded, "I hope you don't mind if the meal's a bit more interesting than you anticipated."

Justin started to laugh. "I'm an expert on getting boyfriends to do things they're not planning to. What are you going to say?"

"I think I'll keep it simple." Marc tilted his head. "I'm just going to tell the truth, and spill the secret, now that the contract's signed." He chuckled and held out his arm. "Shall we?"

"Certainly." Justin linked his arm through Marc's muscular one and headed for the door.

* * *

Dinner was a subdued affair. The four-star restaurant had put a table together for the group of eight in an alcove set apart from the main dining room. A chandelier hung immediately above their heads, casting sparkling light over the table. Peter and his wife, Lydia, sat at one end with John and Brian on one side. Marc and Justin sat across from them. Further down the table, Meg sat with her husband Greg. Both Greg and Marc had signed contracts that week.

Brian wasn't happy. His flight had come in three hours late. His meeting with John hadn't happened. He and Justin hadn't been able to meet before dinner. He still didn't know how the Justin/Eric kiss went. He had no idea how Justin would react to his plans. Frustration coupled with boredom to put him in a bitch of a mood.

Meg turned eagerly towards Justin. "So, Justin. Were you happy with your show?"

Justin tossed Brian a brief glance that spoke volumes about his opinion of Meg before turning to her. "I was. Thanks to you and John, I'm selling paintings faster than anyone predicted. We're already planning the next show." He flashed a brilliant smile. "I hope you'll be able to come." Meg's face lit up in response.

Brian smirked slightly, enjoying hearing Justin sound like an ad man.

Meg turned to Marc. "You must be very proud of how well Justin's show went."

Marc smiled at Justin. "It's amazing how talented he is, isn't it? The paintings are practically flying out the door. " Justin grinned back. Brian's irritation grew.

Greg looked at Justin with contempt, bordering on hostility. "I don't understand them at all. They don't look like anything."

Brian eyes narrowed as he watched Greg, aggravated at the unwarranted attack on Justin. The guy was an asshole.

"It's just not the style you like, dear," Meg broke in, tittering in embarrassment. "I liked them. Maybe you could pick something up next time we go out." Meg proceeded to describe three upcoming shows she wanted to attend.

Greg, bored by his wife's endless chatter about artists, changed subjects. "Did you hear about Murphy's head injury? The doctor's say he won't be able to play again."

Peter frowned, thinking about the multi-million dollar contract that had just become worthless. "I got the final report today. His neural system is permanently damaged."

Justin glance went to his hand as he flexed it. "Sometimes doctors are wrong about injuries like that."

"What the hell would you know about it?" Greg's insulting tone caught most of the listeners by surprise. Brian's expression turned flinty as he focused on Greg.

"Greg," Meg protested, "that was rude."

"Why? It's the truth." Greg's homosexual hatred broke through. "What would a gay artiste know about sports injuries?"

"What would a gay artist know about injuries?" Brian cocked an angry eyebrow in Greg's direction, his annoyance with the meal, the company and life in general reaching its peak. "Does getting bashed in the head with a baseball bat count as a sports injury, Greg?"

"Brian, don't!" Justin protested.

Greg's surprise at who was speaking was obvious. "What are you talking about?"

Brian continued, relentlessly focused on Greg. "Have you ever laid in a coma for weeks? Had the doctors tell you you'd never use your hand again? Woken up screaming from nightmares that won't quit?"

"No, but..."

"But nothing." Brian jerked his head toward Justin. "He has, because bastards like you think being gay makes you a target."

"Brian! Stop!" Justin looked seriously annoyed. "Greg's never hurt me."

Brian's hard gaze held Greg's. "Maybe not, but I don't think it'd bother him if someone else did, would it, Greg?" Brian turned to Justin. "Until he's had a bomb go off in his face, he should shut the fuck up."

A thick silence descended on the table as Brian and Greg glared at one another.

Peter, an older version of his brother, arched an elegant eyebrow into his salt and pepper hair as he listened to the conversation. "Well," he interrupted with a self-satisfied smirk. "Curious how your business associate knows all about Marc's boyfriend, isn't it, John?"

John's glance swiveled to his brother's face, quickly assessing. John started to grin.

"We're both gay and we're both from Pittsburgh," Brian intervened. "Justin's injuries and the bombing were headline news. Everybody knew about it."

"His nightmares were headline news?" Peter asked.

Brian rubbed his hand on his neck, leaning his head back slightly then smiled apologetically at Justin as he shrugged his shoulders.

Justin smiled, knowing that Rage's temper had gotten the better of him again. He'd learned to roll with the flashes of fury years ago. He lifted a foot and started to rub it up and down Brian's leg.

Brian began to relax - things were looking up.

John smiled at Marc and gave a light shrug in Peter's direction. "He knows."

Marc responded with a reassuring smile. "It's my fault," he announced. "I was uncomfortable with the fact that I was dating John while negotiating with you, Peter. So I asked Justin to pretend to be my date until the contracts were done. I didn't want my relationship to interfere with business."

"I knew you were dating John months ago." Peter's grin broadened as he continuing looking at his brother. "Don't you know by now that I know everything?"

Marc's puzzled, "How'd you find out?" caused Peter to shake his head at the younger man's naiveté.

"John's an Avery. Family news sweeps through New York. A couple of little gay birds sang at one of my mother's dinners. It had no impact until I found out you'd dumped him for Justin." Peter's face toughened slightly. "That almost got you traded to California."

John started to laugh. "Why didn't you?"

Peter grinned back. "Business is business," he teased before shaking his head. "I could tell something was off when you and Justin were such good friends at the hockey game. I dug a bit and found out about Brian's visit. I decided not to do anything drastic. Your visit with the team to Pittsburgh clinched it. I just cut Marc's offer since I knew how badly he'd want to stay in New York."

"What?" John exclaimed. "Why?"

Peter looked at Marc. "I wouldn't Marc to think I let your relationship interfere with business."

At that comment, the table broke into laughter.

Peter turned back to John. "You'll have to introduce him to Mother soon. Dad and Anthony will help."

"I know they will. Besides, it's not Mother I'm worried about." John and Peter's gaze met in complete understanding.

Justin turned to Meg. "I hope the fact that Marc and I aren't really dating doesn't affect your sponsorship of my work."

Meg looked stumped for a moment. If Justin hadn't been with Marc, she wouldn't have bought the paintings. She didn't understand them. She also didn't care much for Brian's attack on her husband. Unfortunately, she'd look petty if she changed her mind now. "Not at all, Justin. I was at your show before I thought you two were dating." Her smiled was slightly forced as she looked at Brian. "The bombing you mentioned. It was the one at the Pittsburgh club, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Babylon. Why?"

Meg beamed, grateful for a change of subject. "You must be thrilled that they caught the guy that set the bomb."

"What?" Brian's head snapped up at that statement. "What are you talking about?"

Meg started to stutter in response to Brian's intensity. "It was headline news today."

Brian's eyes darkened, his gaze furious. "Did they say who did it?"

Meg swallowed convulsively. "Yes, they did. It was Dobbs, I think, or Hobbs. I think his name was Hobbs."

Brian's wine glass shattered.

"Shit! Brian, are you all right?" John reached over with a napkin to stop the bleeding. Everyone at the table was focused on Brian except for Brian himself.

"I'm fine!" Brian watched Justin closely, ignoring John's ministrations. "Justin," he said softly.

Justin's head shook from side-to-side in disbelief as his voice softly and slowly repeated, "No, no, no, no…"

"Justin!" Brian's raised voice snapped Justin's attention to him. "Are you okay?"

Justin's chair crashed behind him as he stood and pushed violently away from the table. "No!" Brian launched himself around the table to Justin's side.

Justin's horror-filled eyes filled with unshed tears. "It's my fault." Justin's was unfocussed, staring at sights no one else could see. "It's all my fault."

"No, it's not," Brian's grabbed Justin by the arms, shaking him lightly. "Hobbs set the bomb, not you!" Justin's focus shifted to Brian.

"He was trying to kill me!" Justin's low, intense voice carried untold pain. "The club… Michael… My God…" Justin's breathing rasped as his volume increased, "Dusty's _dead_ because I gave Chris Hobbs a hand job." Justin's hysterical laughter cut through the stunned silence like shards of broken glass.

"Justin!" Brian gave Justin a hard shake to cut off the laughter. "It is not your fault. You haven't gone near that bastard in five years."

"Yes, I did!" Justin broke down completely in Brian's arms. "Cody and I… we…."

At the mention of Cody's name, Brian swore. "What did you and Cody do?"

"We went to see him," Justin's voice softened, his eyes pleading Brian to understand. "We didn't hurt him, but we scared him. Cody wanted me to kill him, but I didn't. I didn't even load the gun. I walked away. I walked away from them both."

Brian's phone started to ring in his coat at his chair. Brian ignored it. John reached over and looked at the screen. "Brian, Debbie's calling."

"Deal with her!" Brian snapped at John before turning back to Justin.

John quickly answered the blaring phone. "Debbie, it's John." He paused for a moment. "Yeah, they just found out. Brian's talking to Justin."

Brian's mind whirled with the new information. "If you went with Cody, it was at least a year before the bombing. You didn't cause this."

"You don't know that," Justin shook his head. "Fuck, you still blame yourself for the prom."

"And you keep telling me it's not my fault. Were you lying to me, Sunshine?"

"No, I…" Justin shook. "It's different. You don't understand."

"Yes, I do." Brian pulled Justin in tightly, trying to shield him. "Don't let the bastards win."

John's soft voice responded to Debbie, "No, Debbie. I don't think Justin's taking the news well at all."

Justin couldn't think.

Images from the past pounded through him relentlessly – a painted locker, jeering faces, a bat, the flash of the bomb, Michael bruised and broken, Dusty's children.

Justin tried to focus on the scent and feel of Brian. He could hear Brian's voice – _Don't let the bastards win. __You sure as hell can't stop them either. No, that's not right. You may not stop them, but you can try. You have to try._ New images flashed - the party after Stockwell, dancing after Kip, Gus, Brian.

Justin's head came up and focused on Brian. More memories flooded in. _They can only hurt you if you let them. _Justin pulled in a shaky breath.

Brian relaxed slightly at the return of sanity to Justin's eyes. "Okay?" At Justin's nod, Brian stepped back and picked up the chair. "Do you want to leave?"

Justin shook his head no and offered the ghost of a smile. Justin sat down, looked around the table, took a deep drink of water and spoke. "Sometimes your past won't stay in the past. If you don't mind, I'd like to talk about something else." He looked around the table at the stunned faces. He prompted again with, "Brian and I are looking for a new place to live. Any suggestions?"

The reactions of the people around the table varied. Lydia immediately reached over, gave Justin's hand a friendly squeeze, and launched into discussions about locations. Marc's chair shifted closer to Justin and his arm came up to give a comforting hug. Peter watched Brian. Meg was, for the first time that evening, silent. Greg stared thoughtfully at Justin, saying nothing.

Brian watched Justin with pride before turning to John. "Give me the phone." Brian took the phone and moved a few steps away.

"Deb, he's all right. Put Carl on." Brian didn't hesitate for a moment before breaking across Debbie's chattering. "Debbie, put Carl on the fucking phone."

Brian waited, lethally angry. "Why didn't anybody tell me what was going on?"

"I don't know, Brian," the police officer responded. "I just found out myself. I didn't connect Chris Hobbs name with Justin's bashing. It all happened before I met any of you. Debbie called as soon as I told her."

"I'm the owner of the goddamned club, Carl. You'd think your homophobic cop friends could have called."

"They probably tried, but you've been traveling all day. Are you staying there longer?"

Brian looked over at Justin, "I'm not sure. I've got clients lined up all week in Pittsburgh. I'll let you know. Carl – find out how strong the case is."

"No problem, Brian. I'll talk to you as soon as I know anything."

Brian walked back to the table, touched Marc on the shoulder and silently pointed at the chair across the table. Marc nodded understandingly and vacated the chair next to Justin. Brian sat down, put his arm around Justin and listened to the conversation with half his attention, the rest focused on Justin.

After a few minutes, Greg cut in. "Justin."

Everyone at the table tensed. Brian looked ready to fight. Justin's hand came over to rest on Brian's thigh, holding him in place. He looked at Greg. "Yes?"

Greg grimaced at the look on Brian's face. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry about my earlier comments."

Justin shook his head. "It's okay. You don't know me."

"I'm thinking that might be my loss." Greg continued gamely, "Can I ask you a question?"

Justin shrugged.

"How do you do it?" Greg's tone surprised Justin. It wasn't hostile. "How do you just sit down and continue dinner after hearing something like that?"

Justin looked into Brian's eyes, thinking for a moment before answering. "Three things. Knowing you're not alone." Brian's hand tightened on Justin's shoulder.

"Second." Justin's shifted his attention to Greg, smiling ironically. "Lots of practice. You learn how to cope." A deep silence settled around the table at the implications inherent in that remark.

"And last, but definitely not least, is a simple rule." Justin shifted his focus back to Brian. "Brian taught me this one five years ago. It's become part of who we are." Brian's face softened slightly, eyebrow raised. Justin smiled back, and then turned to Greg.

"You can't let the bastards win."


	19. Chapter 19 Together

**Chapter 19 ****–**** Together**

"Brian, why is your hotel room full of candles?"

Brian looked startled for a moment. "I can't believe I forgot." He smiled down at Justin. "I had plans for tonight."

"I can see that," Justin whispered, looking around the suite in wonder. Dozens of white candles were scattered about the room, flickering softly. A bowl of yellow flowers stood on a table, next to a bottle of champagne. Justin walked to them, inhaled the aroma. "Golden gardenias. I can't believe you found them." Justin turned to look quizzically at his lover. "What's going on?"

Brian smiled, looking slightly embarrassed. "I'm plagued by lousy timing. With the news about Hobbs, maybe we should put this off to another day. I don't want to be thinking about him."

Justin looked around the room and walked back to Brian, putting his hand on Brian's cheek. "I can ignore Hobbs, I promise. If you can't, I'll understand, but…"

"But what?"

"Don't let him win."

Brian cocked an eyebrow then grinned. "Okay." He took the bottle of champagne sitting in a cooler near the flowers. Justin jumped slightly as the cork exploded. "I told you I celebrate accomplishments." Brian poured two drinks, handing one to Justin. "We'll have a party in Pittsburgh next time you're back." Brian leaned in to kiss Justin briefly. "Congratulations on the show, signing your contract with Bannerman and on Liberty Art - your new company." Brian clinked his glass against Justin's and took a drink.

Justin took a brief drink. "Brian, I …" Justin paused, at a loss for words. "Thank you." Brian brought his mouth down to Justin's.

_He's so good at this_, Justin thought, as Brian's hands got busy and Justin's pulse jumped in response. Justin let the kiss take him away from the worries of the day. He'd stopped thinking when he felt Brian pull back, touch their foreheads, and take a deep, sighing breath.

"Brian, how'd you come up with all this?" Justin lifted a brow. "Candles and flowers?"

"What? I can't be romantic?"

"No." Justin grinned mischievously. "Not usually."

Brian glanced away, a slight tinge of red flushing his cheeks as he muttered, "I asked Lindsay what you'd like."

"You asked Lindsay?"

"I get it wrong sometimes. I thought she could stop me from blowing it." Brian smirked. "Until the right time, that is."

"Lindsay suggested golden gardenias?"

"No, she suggested roses. That was a bit too predictable for my taste."

Justin's grin broadened as he struggled not to laugh. "Did she give you advice for the whole night or did it stop at the candles?"

"No need to get insulting." Brian's disgusted look caused Justin's laughter to break free.

"She was right, I love it."

"Good." Brian pulled his lover in for a searing kiss to stop the laughter. "There's more."

Justin smiled and reached for the front of Brian's pants. "I certainly hope so." At the sound of the snap undoing, Brian stepped back.

"No," Brian laughed lightly, "I mean there's more to talk about. We can fuck after."

Justin gave a small huff of laughter, contrasting the words with the flowers and candles setting. "Ever the romantic," he teased.

"A man can only change so much, Sunshine." Brian took Justin by the hand and led him over to the desk area. He opened his Tumi briefcase and pulled out a large stack of papers. "The notary will be by in the morning to witness everything, but I wanted to walk you through these before then."

"Brian," Justin asked, "what's all this?" Spotting a will in the stack of papers, Justin looked up. "Is the cancer back?"

"No." Brian took a breath, "I'm fine. I just thought it was time to make our non-conventional, non-defined relationship a little more conventional and defined." Brian sat down beside Justin. "Let me walk you through what's in here first then you can look at it all. First, joint bank accounts, credit cards, investment accounts."

Justin looked through the statements, eyes widening at the amounts. "Brian. You were broke two and a half years ago. How?"

"Babylon's been very successful. So has Kinnetic." Brian explained. "After I left Vanguard, they had a hard time picking up new clients. That was what I did for them. Four of their best people noticed the problem and came to work for Kinnetic." Brian gave a wicked little grin. "I'm sure the offers I made didn't hurt. When they left, the quality was shot and the existing clients starting leaving. It took less than a year." Brian's grin turned vindictive. "Vanguard was going under without me. I picked up almost all of his clients and staff with a buyout. Business boomed. There's really no other competition on the scale of Kinnetics in Pittsburgh now. That's why I can start setting up an office in New York."

Justin raised his glass. "To Kinnetic, a huge success to celebrate."

Brian took a drink before turning serious. "Speaking of Kinnetic, one of the contracts is a partnership agreement making you a full partner in the company."

"Brian, you can't do that." Justin protested, "It's your company. I don't need it. You don't have to take care of me."

"I know that. It's not about you. It's everybody else."

"What?"

"If anything ever happened to me, my mother and Clare would be hiring lawyers, trying to get everything." Brian badly needed Justin to understand. "We live in the good old U S of A, Justin. It doesn't matter what civil union, marriage or otherwise a gay couple files. Get the wrong judge and you lose everything. If you're a partner in the business and the transfer is part of the original business deal, they can't fight it."

When Justin opened his mouth to protest, Brian took him by the shoulders and shook him lightly. "Listen to me. If Debbie were to get sick, would you take care of her?"

"Of course I would. You know that."

"If Michael ever asked for anything, would you give it to him? Would you take care of Gus? Make sure he has money for college?"

"Brian, you don't even have to ask."

"That's right – I don't. You'd take care of them all. And you always will. No matter what happens with us. Do you think Clare would? Or my mother?" Brian looked steadily at Justin. "I know you can take care of yourself, but it's not just you and me. It's for everybody."

Justin finally understood what Brian meant by actions being more important to words. The level of commitment in those contracts far exceeded any marriage contract.

"Christ, Brian. You don't do things half-way, do you?" Justin leaned his head forward, rubbing his neck.

"No, I don't." Brian smiled ruefully. "You see why it's necessary, don't you?"

"Yes." Justin looked up into Brian's steady hazel gaze. "I'll sign, but on one condition. We do the same for Liberty Art."

"I thought you'd say that. Those contracts are in the pile, too. There's more."

"More?" Justin shook his head in bemusement. "What more could there possibly be?"

"It's the list of current investments." Brian shuffled through the papers and pulled out one set. Flipping to the second page, he showed Justin the list.

Justin looked at Brian quizzically before taking the list. "My God, Brian. You own half of Liberty Avenue."

"After the bombing, a lot of the investors were gun-shy. Or is it bomb-shy? Companies who build shopping malls and condos started looking at Liberty Avenue and buying up property." Brian flushed slightly, obviously embarrassed. "I couldn't let Liberty Avenue turn into a hetero haven, so I bought up enough to block them."

Justin was still looking through the list. "Oh, my God," Justin exclaimed in shock.

"Yeah. Thought you'd notice that one." Brian smirked slightly. "Couldn't let Deb be out of a job, could I? I'd never hear the end of it."

"My God."

"Don't tell anyone we own the diner. It's even a condition on the new manager's job that no one ever hears." Brian shook his head, twisting his lips slightly. "Can you imagine Debbie, if she knew? She'd either be hounding me with renovation plans or not speaking to me." Brian's brows furrowed slightly as he considered the option. "I'm not sure which. If I knew, I might tell her."

"My God." Justin said again, still stunned.

Brian got irritated. "Would you stop saying that? You're starting to sound as idiotic as Emmett."

Justin shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Before I sign, I just want to know one thing."

"What?" Brian smiled with a sense of victory; Justin was definitely going to sign.

"How iron-tight is that secrecy clause with your manager?" Justin asked. "If Debbie finds out we own the diner, she won't hound you, she'll come after me. She'll figure I'm the easier target."

"That's just because she doesn't know you as well as she thinks she does." Brian grinned. "You'd hold out better than I would and we both know it. Don't worry. She won't find out."

Brian took another sip of his champagne. "Two of the agreements are signing over administrative rights to each other. You'll own half of Kinnetic and I'll own half of Liberty Art, but neither of us will interfere in running the other's business." Brian's hands came up to Justin's shoulders, touching and soothing the nerves. "Then there's the usual wills, powers of attorney, insurance and so on. That's it for the business portion of the evening."

"Good," Justin exclaimed. "Now let's get started on the entertainment portion." Justin was just reaching for the snap on Brian's pants when Brian's hand stopped him.

"One more thing."

"Brian! Can't it wait?"

"No."

Justin looked at Brian. Brian's hazel eyes were raw with emotion, a rarely seen vulnerability. Justin reached up to touch Brian's cheek. "What is it?"

"I don't believe in marriage or commitment ceremonies. I know you do." Brian tilted his head, slightly awkward. "But… I'm not sure how you want to do this. Our last try was a disaster." Brian reached into his coat pocket and took out the rings. "I've got the license to do a civil union right now with one phone call. We can do this anytime, anywhere you want. Today, back in Pittsburgh or never. You choose what you want and I'll be there. I'm not going anywhere, ever."

Justin's emotions swirled through him. It was unreal that Brian was asking again. Justin didn't know if his heart could take the surges moving through it. Justin swallowed as he struggled to find the right words.

"Not right now," he began slowly. "I find that I don't need it as much as I thought I did. That actions matter more." Justin smiled. "That we're together because we want to be, not because we have to be. One day we'll do it, but not today, I think."

Brian's lips quirked in a half smile. "I thought you'd want to wait until everybody can watch." He pulled out two gold chains and strung a ring on each. "A promise. Anytime, anywhere." He handed one necklace to Justin and then reached to place the other necklace around Justin's neck.

"Anytime, anywhere, because I'm not going anywhere either." Justin confirmed. He placed the necklace around Brian's neck and watched Brian's eyes, sensing the release of unspoken tension.

Brian moved in and lightly rubbed Justin's lower lip with a finger. "Well, then. It's time."

"Time for what?"

"Guess." Brian started opening Justin's shirt, one button at a time as he backed him toward the bedroom. Brian brought his mouth down and Justin let out a light gasp as he let the kiss take him under. When Brian came up for a moment, Justin looked around the bedroom. The theme from the living room had been carried into the bedroom. Candlelight flickered over the flower petals that covered the bed and surrounding floor.

"I didn't know you had romance in you." Justin commented.

With a laugh, Brian tore Justin's shirt the rest of the way open. "As long as it makes you hard, I do." He picked Justin up and tossed him onto the bed, following immediately to take off the dress pants Justin had worn to dinner. Brian looked down at the simple white underwear Justin wore, becoming instantly aroused.

Brian skimmed his hands over Justin's chest and leaned down to kiss the spot where the ring rested. He felt Justin's heart race under his lips and heard a sound, somewhere between a gasp and a sigh.

Brian sat down beside Justin to take off his own shirt. Justin sat up, reached over and moved Brian's hands out of the way. He slid himself sideways until he was sitting on Brian's lap undoing his shirt. After he got it off, Justin moved to meet Brian's mouth again then pushed him backwards until he was lying on the bed. Justin followed Brian down, moving to kiss the spot where Brian's ring lay. He slowly moved down, hovering over Brian, removing his clothing until he could come back up, to lie naked together on the bed.

Justin dove into the kiss, sinking into it, feeling the need that always lay under the surface. A lingering, permanent ache that only Brian's touch could take away.

As Justin moved above him, Brian felt emotions that he'd never known he could feel. He rolled Justin over, staring into blue eyes gone wild with desire. "Mine," he whispered as Justin shuddered in response.

Justin knew when he was ready and pulled his legs upward. He felt Brian fill him. Justin moved with Brian, desperate for more. He matched stroke after frantic stroke.

When the need was too much, when Justin felt himself about to fall, he looked into the intense hazel eyes. "Brian!" he cried, throwing his arms haphazardly around Brian's neck." The orgasm flashed, bright as day, through Justin as he felt Brian take the fall with him.


	20. Chapter 20 Fallout

**Chapter 20 - Fallout**

Brian's eyes opened slowly. Soft breath on his neck caught his attention and he shifted carefully to see the face of his own personal dose of sunshine calm and peaceful on his arm. "_Good_," Brian thought. "_He's still asleep_."

Brian carefully extricated himself from Justin, moving quietly into the next room, gently shut the door behind him and pulled out his cell phone.

After a few rings, Carl's voice came across the line. "Mornin', Brian. How's Justin?"

"Fine." Brian had no time for pleasantries. "I needed to talk to you before Justin talks to the police. I want to make sure he doesn't get charged with anything."

"Why? What did he do?"

"Remember Cody?"

"How could I forget? Half the force hated him and his pink posse and the rest loved him."

"Just before Justin stopped hanging out with Cody, that little shit got a gun and gave it to Justin. They used it to scare the hell out of Chris Hobbs."

"Did anybody get hurt?"

"No, but it was pretty nasty." Brian took a deep breath. "Apparently Cody wanted Justin to kill Hobbs. Justin walked away, but not before he put the gun into Hobbs mouth and threatened him."

"Christ." Carl thought for a moment. "Criminal charges are possible, but not likely. In theory, it's classified as an assault with a deadly weapon. In practice, it was over a year ago and nobody got hurt except for a suspect in a mass murder."

"How can we be sure? I don't want to see Justin charged."

"Get Justin a lawyer before he talks to anybody. Right now it's all hearsay. Hobb's word against Justin's. If Justin doesn't talk, there's nothing. Problem is, if Justin doesn't talk, the police might get annoyed and threaten charges. Then it would all depend on Cody as the only eye witness. " Carl cleared his throat, clearly thinking. "Another thing to consider is the fact that it gives Hobbs an additional motive, which could help make the case against him."

"How much time do we have to get a lawyer?"

"Not very. This is a high profile case. People don't like bombs. They won't want to drag Justin back to Pittsburgh. He's a victim and harassing victims always looks bad. Justin should expect a call from the New York police department, most likely a homicide detective, today or tomorrow."

"Okay. What did you find out about the case against Hobbs?"

"It's pretty good. Hobbs works in construction. They had dynamite to demolish a building. He had access to everything and some of it's missing. He was also seen on Liberty Avenue that day, near Babylon. The detective tells me that he's so homophobic, he's not really sane. They might actually get a confession out of him. He'd be proud of it."

"Christ. What an asshole."

"Yeah."

"Thanks, Carl. Is Emmett home? I need to talk to him."

"Sure."

Brian waited for Carl to hand off the phone, his mind churning.

Emmett's normally sugary voice was muted as he came on the line. "Brian, how's Justin?"

"I don't think it's really hit him yet. That's why I'm calling."

"What can I do?"

"Get your ass on a plane to New York today."

"Beg pardon?"

"I can't stay. I've got clients lined up in Pittsburgh. The meetings are all intended to reassure them that my move to New York isn't going to impact their bottom-line. What's worse, Justin knows all about it. He knows I can't afford to miss an appointment, which makes it very difficult for me to make up an excuse to stay here with him."

"And knowing Justin, he'd be insulted if he thought you believed he couldn't handle it."

"No shit. And it's not true, he can handle anything. He's resilient."

"He's had to be."

"Yeah, but it doesn't mean he has to handle it alone, does it?" Brian groused. He could feel a headache coming on. "So, are you coming?"

Emmett was silent for a moment. "Brian, I just want to say, the thought of asking you this makes me nauseous." He sighed. "I'm only doing it for Justin."

"What the hell are you babbling about?"

"I wasn't completely honest about why I was moving." Emmett sighed again. "I'm broke. I got fired over Drew and with the notoriety I lost a lot of clients. I was about to go back into retail. The job offer was a god-send. I can afford the flight, but not the cost of hiring someone to move everything. I just don't have it. You want me in New York, you'll have to lend me the money for it."

Brian made an irritated noise at the back of his throat. "If it'll get you up here to Justin, consider it a gift. I'll get Cynthia to set the whole thing up."

"In that case, I can be in New York today."

"Let's never mention this again, Honeycutt. I wouldn't want people to think I'd lost my mind by giving you money."

Emmett huffed out a small laugh. "Agreed. One other thing, Brian."

"What?"

Emmett smiled at the irritation in Brian's voice. "Don't call me Honeycutt."

Brian hung up the phone with a wry grin. Emmett would keep Justin sane. He walked over to his laptop to find a good defense attorney in New York. He sat back as a familiar name came up. This might be easier than he thought.

* * *

Justin had awakened to the scent of golden gardenias and the sound of movement in the next room. Not wanting to get up, Justin lay in bed, fingering his ring. A few minutes later, Brian came in, heading to the shower.

"Good morning." Justin said with a grin.

"You're up," Brian returned the smile.

Justin lifted the sheet slightly, looking under it. "Definitely."

Brian's laughter filled the room as he joined Justin in bed.

* * *

Don Renton, Pittsburgh's district attorney, leaned back in his chair and wondered, yet again, why anyone would set a bomb. Chris Hobbs was a homophobe, but was that enough for a jury? The train of thought was interrupted as his assistant, Larry Rourke, entered the office. From the look on Larry's face something interesting had happened. "What's up?" he asked, sitting up quickly.

"We just got a call from Lydia Avery on the bombing case."

Don immediately recognized the name. "Shit." The distinguished man rubbed a hand through his graying hair in frustration, leaving it standing upright. "Hobbs hired one of the best defense attorney's in New York? I'm surprised he can afford her." Don thought further. "Can she even practice here?"

"She's licensed in Pennsylvania but she didn't call about Hobbs. Do you want to take a guess?" Larry grinned as his boss glared at him. "She's representing Justin Taylor."

"The guy Hobbs hit in the head with a bat?" That was even more confusing. "Why would he need a lawyer? We just sent the request for an interview to NYPD for some background."

"Apparently the two of them have a lot of history. Avery says it speaks to motive, but that her client needs immunity from prosecution on one confrontation."

"Is that so?"

"It gets better." Larry smirked. "According to Avery, no one got hurt, no charges were brought and Hobbs isn't likely to talk about it. He'd find it embarrassing."

"Didn't you say you had somebody working for you who knew them both?"

"An intern - Miles Davey. He's a second year law student who went to St. James at the same time as Hobbs and Taylor. Told me he wasn't surprised Hobbs could set a bomb."

"Get him in here."

Minutes later, a short, rather plain-looking young man with glasses entered the room. "You wanted to see me?"

"Have a seat. You knew both Hobbs and Taylor at school?"

"We were in a lot of the same classes."

"Taylor has asked for immunity before talking and we don't know why. What can you tell me about the relationship between them?"

"I can tell you that you should give Justin immunity for anything short of killing Hobbs." Miles looked out the window for a moment, thinking. "The two of them didn't have much to do with each until our final year. Justin's an artist, straight-A student. Hobbs was a super jock and not too bright. Something happened part way through that year. I don't know what. Justin suddenly became Hobbs' favorite target."

"Target?"

"Hobbs was a vicious bully. He and his little gang of jocks made life hell for a lot of kids at St. James, including me. He got away with it because he was also captain of the football team, the star quarterback. His parents had a lot of influence. Hobbs focused in on Justin just before Justin came out. I remember being relieved he had somebody else to pick on."

"Do you think Hobbs knew Taylor was gay before anyone else?"

"I doubt it. He would have told everyone." Miles leaned sideways, rubbing his hand on his temple. "Not that Justin would have cared." Miles sat up with an odd look on his face. "Let me tell you one particular incident. It'll give you a good feel for both of them."

"One morning in class, the teacher was late. Hobbs was pulling his usual crap, calling me a faggot, pushing me around. Justin came in and told him to stop. The two of them started to get into it. I did nothing, just sat there like an idiot." Miles grinned ruefully. "It wasn't one of my prouder moments"

"I won't hold it against you." Don smiled. "We're all idiots in high school."

"The teacher came in, broke it up and blamed Justin for the fight. During the roll call, Hobbs called Justin a queer. The teacher ignored it and Justin called him on it." Miles eyes lit at the memory. "When the man refused to do anything about Hobbs, Justin told him to fuck off and got suspended. As usual, nothing happened to Hobbs."

"Brave kid."

"Justin changed my life – the bashing is what motivated me to go into law. I couldn't believe Hobbs got off with a slap on the wrist."

"I agree. My predecessor was an idiot."

Miles continued hesitantly, "Justin's bravery is probably what got his head bashed in."

"Why do you say that?"

"Justin was openly gay. He started a club, had a senator out to the school to talk about gay rights. It drove Hobbs nuts, especially when Justin invited his boyfriend to the prom."

"I read about that."

Miles peered at Don over his glasses. "Have you made the big connection yet?"

Don exchanged a glance with Larry. "What do you mean?"

"The boyfriend - the one who ended Hobbs' football career with a baseball bat to the knee. You know who he is?"

Don thought for a moment. "I don't recall."

Miles raised an eyebrow and smiled. "None other than Brian Kinney - the owner of Babylon."

Don turned to Larry with a triumphant smile. "Call Avery and give Taylor immunity."

"And Kinney?"

"Give him immunity, too. I think we want them both talking."

"I'll get right on it."


	21. Chapter 21 Fallout Part 2

**Chapter 21 – Fallout Part 2**

"I keep telling myself I can do this," Justin said nervously as he waited for the police to arrive at Brian's hotel suite.

"You can." Brian pulled Justin in closer as they sat on the small couch. "Just tell them everything. Carl told me it'll help put Hobbs away."

Lydia sat watching the two men. She'd been intrigued by the couple at the dinner and had taken on the case herself rather than have one of her assistant's handle it. She found the dynamic between the two fascinating. She'd dropped by the gallery that morning, curious. Justin Taylor's work pulled you in, just as the young man did.

Justin snuggled into Brian, drawing strength as he waited. He looked over to where Lydia sat, looking intimidating in a plum colored suit with her perfectly coiffed brown hair. "You're sure I can't be charged with anything."

"I'm sure," she said reassuringly. "As long as you didn't physically hurt anyone, you're clear."

"I can't believe this is happening." Justin said softly, looking down. "A trip down memory lane with Chris Hobbs. I thought I'd left him behind." Justin looked up. "The press is going to be a nightmare, aren't they?"

Brian snorted softly. "Of course they will. The story's got sex, blood and violence," he assured Justin, "and that's before the bombing."

"They'll be everywhere," Lydia grimaced, thinking of other high-profile cases. "The best way to handle it is to announce you're going to do a single press conference or interview. The story is really Hobbs, so a lot of them will back off. I can set it up, but it might be better to get your agent to."

"Shit." Justin got up suddenly, looking for his phone. "I haven't warned Jared."

Brian watched, his face tensing, as Justin spoke to his agent.

Lydia wondered what put the look of pain on Brian's face and spoke softly. "He's going to be all right."

Brian shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts. "I know."

"Then why so worried?"

"I'm not worried," Brian protested immediately. "He can handle anything."

"I agree." Lydia tilted her head to the side, silently repeating her question.

"He just shouldn't have to." Brian got up suddenly, moving through the room as the knowledge he was about to relive the prom hit him.

Justin rejoined them, "Jared's going to come by in about two hours. We should be done with the detective by then." He turned at a knock at the door, opening it to reveal a tall, slim, mixed race woman with shoulder length brown hair that looked as if she had cut it herself. Her scuffed, full length, black leather coat hung to just above her well-worn black boots. "I'm Lieutenant Cam Medina. I believe you were expecting me."

Lydia spoke up first, "Lieutenant. Good to see you again."

"Ms. Avery," she responded with a sardonic lilt. "Why would a top defense attorney be involved in a simple interview like this?" Cam advanced into the room with the grace of a jungle cat, her martial arts training obvious.

"Justin and Brian are friends." Lydia performed a quick introduction. "We were at dinner together when they heard about Hobbs' arrest. Lieutenant, we're on the same side this time." Lydia chuckled, her brown eyes challenging the lieutenant. "I'm encouraging my clients to tell you everything." She needled the lieutenant gently, "I must admit I'm surprised that NYPD sent one of their top cops out on a simple interview like this."

"Really?" Cam asked with a raised brow. "These gentlemen are bombing victims linked to the Avery's. The department decided it would be best if someone…" Cam paused, searching for the right word, "sympathetic did the interview."

"Why would you be more sympathetic?" Justin asked.

"Because she's gay," Brian interjected as he got up.

"That's right, Mr. Kinney." Cam smiled slightly. "I'm here because I'm gay."

Justin snorted softly. "Me, too."

The lieutenant gave a slight smile as she laid her jacket over the back of a chair and sat down. "Why don't we get started, Mr. Taylor? How did you first meet Chris Hobbs?"

"Call me Justin, please." He took a deep breath and began to talk.

Justin realized later that being interviewed by Lieutenant Cam Medina was one of the most extraordinary experiences of his life. She pulled memories out of him that he hadn't thought of in years. She was sympathetic, patient and relentless.

An hour and a half into the interview, a knock sounded at the door. Brian opened the door to let Jared Bannerman into the room. Dressed in casual chic with his shoulder length brown hair combed back from his square face, he looked confidently into Brian's eyes as Justin introduced them. The handshake lasted a moment longer than required.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Jared's drawl promised many future pleasures.

Brian stepped a bit closer to Jared than was necessary. "I'm looking forward to getting to know you." Brian's hand tested Jared's grip as he moved in even closer. "Justin's very excited to have you as his agent."

Cam and Lydia exchanged a simple glance that said 'Men,' louder than words - a female moment that transcended past differences.

Justin smiled softly as he watched the alpha male posturing in front of him. The sexual tension in the room began to climb. As the moment drew out, Justin decided that he didn't need the potential complications. He coughed slightly to get Brian's attention.

Brian looked over at Justin with a raised eyebrow.

Justin simply shook his lightly. "He's my agent."

Brian gave a light sigh, looked into Jared's eyes, shrugged his shoulders and stepped back. "Why don't you have a seat while the Lieutenant finishes her questions?"

Jared smirked slightly as he sat down on the large couch across from Justin.

As Cam was about to continue, another knock sounded. Brian opened the door to reveal Emmett in all his glory. His purple ankle length fall coat was topped by a purple and pink cap. Emmett smiled at the sight of Justin, "Sweetie, how are you doing?"

"Emmett?" Justin rushed up and was immediately engulfed in a hug. "What are you doing here?" Justin asked then thought better of it as the police officer cleared her throat. "Tell me later. The detective here isn't done asking questions."

Emmett took off his coat, threw it over the couch next to Jared and sat down. "Why hello. Who are you, sugar?"

Jared raised an eyebrow as he took in the shiny grey pants topped by a tight, red shirt. "Jared Bannerman - Justin's new agent." Jared's obvious interest caused Emmett's eyes to light up.

"I'm Emmett Honeycutt and I'm pleased to meet you." Emmett shifted slightly closer to Jared. "Very pleased." Emmett's face lit up as he saw the flowers on the table behind Jared. "Oh, my God! It's golden gardenias." Emmett bounced on the couch as he turned to Justin. "Where did you find them?"

Cam cleared her throat with a deadly glare for the interruptions. Emmett obediently settled down as Justin moved to sit back down with Cam to discuss the bombing itself. After a few more questions, Justin finished.

Cam looked down at her notes. "One thing I'm puzzled about - it seems out of character. Why did you go to the prom if Brian wouldn't go with you?"

"My Mom and Debbie told me the prom was a once in a lifetime experience." Justin smiled slightly. "They were …" He broke off suddenly, wincing. Justin put his hand to his head. "Shit. Sorry." He took a deep breath. "My head's pounding."

Brian moved to stand next to him. "Are you okay?"

"Not really." Justin sat perfectly still, gathering his thoughts. "This is unbelievable. I just remembered something. I went because of Hobbs." Justin looked up, stunned. "Right before I asked Daphne to go with me." He shook his head in disbelief. "I didn't remember. I didn't tell anyone before because I knew they'd freak out. Everybody told me it was because of Mom and Debbie pushing me to go, but that's not it. Hobbs told me not to go or I'd regret it."

"You got your head bashed in because you had to make a point?" Brian demanded, instantly furious.

Justin looked up at Brian, impossibly gorgeous in a rage. Justin had felt Brian tense throughout the interview, the anger simmering just below the surface, growing as he relived the prom. "Brian, could you just," he winced in agony, "hold that thought for a bit?"

"What?" Brian scowled.

"I'm really not up to a fight right now. And I like fighting with you. The makeup sex is amazing." Justin smiled wanly. "But can you wait a few minutes for me to recover first?" Justin glanced around the room. "Anybody got an aspirin?"

Brian's inarticulate mutter caused Lydia to chuckle as she reached into her purse for the painkiller to give to Justin.

Emmett jumped up, got a glass of water. "Here, baby."

"Thanks, Em."

"You know, Mr. Kinney," Cam drawled. "You seem awfully protective of Justin."

"So what?"

"Just wondering - how often have you interacted with Chris Hobbs?"

Brian's face changed as he looked at Cam with new respect. He gave a sideways smile and said, "Twice."

"What?" Justin sat up, ignoring the pain the in his head. "When?"

"The first would be when you got him away from Justin at the prom, right?" Cam asked.

Brian nodded. "Right. How'd you know I saw him again?"

"I'm very good at my job. You're not the type to just let it go," Cam responded quietly. "When was the second time?"

Brian rubbed his neck, leaning his head back before dropping his hand with a sigh. "During gay pride. Right after Justin saw him at the Aids Hospice. I wanted to make sure he understood what would happen if he got near Justin again."

"What did you do to him?" Emmett asked in a hushed voice.

"We talked." Brian slowly enunciated, throwing Emmett a disgusted glance. "When I left, there wasn't a mark on him, but I think he got the point."

"What did you do?" the lieutenant repeated firmly.

Lydia quickly interjected, "Brian, your immunity extends after the bashing only if no one got hurt."

"There really wasn't a mark on him," Brian repeated, but added more at Lydia's warning glance. "If you want to hear more, it's off the record." Lydia nodded in agreement.

Cam looked at Lydia then agreed with a light shrug. "All right - off the record, Brian. What did you do to him?"

"Why do you really want to know?" Brian asked.

"I like to learn new techniques to interview people." Cam grinned at Brian. "Something tells me yours was effective."

Brian looked at her thoughtfully then shrugged. "Anyone ever fucked a masochist?" Brian asked the group, tongue in cheek.

At the negative responses, Brian nodded agreeably. "I usually avoid them too, not really into it, but there was this one." Brian grinned at Emmett. "Stand up for a second."

"Brian," Emmett fluttered his hands nervously as he got up. "I am so not into pain."

"Don't worry." Brian moved in front of Emmett. "I won't hurt you… much." Emmett didn't appear reassured.

Brian started. "He was having a hard time getting off so I asked him what to do. He told me that the most exquisite pain could be found with a two step process."

"Grab here," Brian's long fingers moved towards Emmett's crotch without touching, "and squeeze and twist as hard as you can." Emmett's eyes widened as Brian's left hand went to the airways on Emmett's neck, touching them lightly. "Then cut off his breath like this." Emmett stared into Brian's eyes, mesmerized, unable to get his breath.

Brian stepped back, causing Emmett to take a shaky breath. "The lack of oxygen intensifies the pain of the injury."

Brian smiled brightly at the wide-eyed people in the room. "It's a good method. He can't scream and he walks away without a mark. Apparently it lasts all day. Every time you piss or fuck, it hurts like hell." Brian shrugged. "Masochists like that part."

"You did that to someone for fun?" Emmett asked incredulously.

Brian's hand came up to lightly hold Emmett's chin as he looked him in the eye. "It's what he needed." Brian grinned evilly at Justin as he let go of Emmett. "Besides I couldn't break rule number two. I had to do something."

"What rule?" Emmett queried, his voice rising to a squeak. "There are rules for this?"

Justin smiled back from the couch. "Rule Number Two: The bottom always comes first." Brian gave a nod, the teacher complimenting his pupil.

"Well," Cam cleared her throat lightly. "It was effective on Hobbs, was it?"

"He couldn't speak but he did seem to listen when I threatened to have him murdered."

Emmett stared at Brian. "You're a little scary, sometimes. You know that, right?"

Brian just chuckled in response.

Cam rose. "If you gentlemen wouldn't mind, keep both of your later encounters with Hobbs secret. It may help the investigation since they're not public knowledge." At Justin's and Brian's agreeing nods, she started for the door. "Thank you for your help. We may need to get in touch with you again." She paused on the way out the door, looking at Brian. "I was just wondering. Are you any relation to Aiden Kinney?"

"I don't think so."

"He runs a pub just outside of Chelsea, the Wild Rover, with his sister Aileen. He looks like you."

"I grew up in New York until I was thirteen, but I don't remember any relatives."

Justin raised a brow towards Emmett who nodded discreetly in replay. The pub was about to have new clients.

"Lieutenant," Justin asked softly from the couch. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"What?" Cam looked puzzled, "Not right now. Why are you asking?"

"Just wondering." Justin's innocent smile told her there was more to it, but she let it go with a shrug as she left.

"That's a great idea," Emmett enthused. "She'd be perfect for Lindsay."

"No cops," Brian said. "I refuse to hide my addictions and Lindsay wouldn't want to see the father of her son in jail."

Justin simply replied, "We'll see," before changing the subject. "Jared, how do you want me to handle it when the reporters show up?" Justin grinned at Brian's glare. His headache was clearing up.

"I think one press conference to get the bulk of the questions done, followed by one or two interviews with reputable television reporters would be the way to go." Jared thoughtfully proclaimed, "We'd want to set the interviews up so they get to know you a bit, show a couple of pieces of your work, maybe do a bit of gay rights advocating. That way you get something out of it too."

Brian rolled his eyes in disgust. "Oh, goody, advocating. You can join the ranks of gays saying please don't hate me, like our friends at the GLC."

"Brian, somebody has to try. If we just give up, we're hiding from the reality of discrimination." Justin stated, getting up and walking over to Brian.

"Don't expect me to join the ranks of protestors at a rally. You can have the hugfest and wear the _Shoot me please_ sign all by yourself."

"No one is expecting you to…" Justin started to respond, but then paused as what Brian had said sunk in. "I'm not planning to make myself into a target."

"You never do," Brian agreed with a forced smile. He then turned and walked into the kitchenette where he poured himself a drink.

"Shit," Justin murmured softly. He looked over at Jared. "Set up the interviews." He glanced at Emmett, nodding toward the door before walking over to Brian. "Brian," he started softly, "I need…"

"That's my cue," Emmett interjected loudly.

Both Justin and Brian turned together. "What?"

Emmett reached down and picked up his coat. "What time do you have to leave for your flight, Brian?"

"In two hours." Brian scowled. "Why?"

"I might be a romantic fairy, but I figure you two want some privacy before then." Emmett tilted his head questioningly.

"Definitely," responded Justin.

"Happy to be of help. I'll be back in an hour and a half." Emmett gestured toward the door, shooing Jared and Lydia in front of him. "Ta ta for now."

At the sound of the closing door, Brian turned to Justin. "What the fuck was that all about?"

Justin eyes lit up at the look on Brian's face. "He's just giving us a bit of space. It's been a brutal day." Justin leaned in to hug Brian, looking up into his eyes. "You know I have to do this, right?"

"Why? No one expects you to be the gay poster boy, but if you start our friends at the GLC will never you go. You're too damn photogenic – unlike them." Brian closed his eyes, looking away from Justin before repeating the real reason. "It makes you a target."

Justin pulled Brian down on the couch to explain. "In high school, I fought the homophobes with words, with politics, with the law. After the bashing and the trial, I didn't trust those things any more. None of it saved me." Justin glanced to the side, uncomfortable expressing his thoughts. "Hobbs, my father – they made me so angry and scared that I could beat people in the streets and aim a loaded gun just to prove I wasn't terrified. Brian, I need…" Justin looked into Brian's eyes, pleading for understanding. "I need to keep fighting back my way - with words. If I have a chance to make a difference, I can't let it go."

Brian rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. "God, you're starting to sound like Zen Ben."

"There are worse things." Justin grinned as Brian rolled his eyes. "We only have ninety minutes," Justin continued. "What do you want to do – fight or fuck?"

Brian gave an inarticulate growl, pulled Justin up off the couch and crashed his mouth down in a raging kiss. After a few minutes, Brian pulled back to drag Justin to the bed.

Justin, already aroused, gave a small laugh. "Good choice."


	22. Chapter 22 Emmett

**Chapter 22 – Emmett**

Justin grinned conspiratorially at Emmett as he watched Brian's cab leave for the airport. "Thanks for getting rid of everyone earlier." The two men started walking, pulling Emmett's bags behind them towards Justin's home.

"No problem." Emmett gave a delicate sigh. "It was obvious you two needed some together time." He gave Justin a quick, concerned look. "How'd his highness take the thought of you as a spokesperson for gay rights?"

"He hates the idea. He'd never say anything, but I know him. He thinks I'm painting a target on my back for the homophobes."

"You are." Emmett shrugged his shoulders. "Doesn't mean you shouldn't do it."

Justin looked at Emmett for a moment before changing the subject. "When last we spoke, you were coming at the end of the month. And yet, here you are – weeks early."

"I couldn't resist." Emmett looked a little shamefaced. "Brian was worrying about you. I told him not to but he made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

"Shit. He didn't think I could handle it, did he?"

"That wasn't it." At Justin's protesting look, Emmett clarified. "It wasn't. He just didn't want you to have to handle it alone. If he stayed, you'd be upset because you knew he had clients lined up all week in Pittsburgh, so he asked me to come. I told him he was being silly, but he insisted."

"That's a bit better," Justin responded, slightly mollified. "What was the offer you couldn't refuse?"

"He had Cynthia set the whole thing up; the flight and moving all my things. Do you know how tedious it is to pack everything and drive for six hours?" Emmett positively sparkled. "Now, it'll all be taken care of and I got here first class."

Justin laughed at Emmett's delight. "There's only one problem. I haven't moved out yet."

"There's enough room for my things in the basement, right?" At Justin's nod, Emmett carried on. "I'll just sleep on the couch until you find a new place."

"It could be a while. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a location that suits both Brian and Lindsay? I've got a new realtor. She's got some places to look at tomorrow morning."

"I'll be busy tomorrow, too." Emmett twisted his face with a grimace. "I called the studio and told them I'd be in New York early and they asked me to drop by to sign papers. Then there's all the stuff that comes when you move. I've got a ton of forms to fill out, bank accounts to open etcetera, etcetera." Emmett gave a little wave of his hand.

Justin grinned at the gesture. "I'm really glad you're here. New York is okay, but I've been a bit lonely."

"It's fantabulous to be here." Emmett gave Justin a quick hug. "Do I get to meet my new roommates now?"

"Not Ari. I know she's translating at the United Nations this afternoon. It's her part time job while she studies journalism. Eric volunteered to set up my new computer system, the one I got for teleconferencing with Michael, so he's probably home. He's working on his master's degree in engineering."

"Is he cute?"

Justin laughed. "Cute but confused. I think he's bisexual, but he's just getting used to the idea. Don't flirt too much if you want to stay. Ari's a bit protective of him and I don't think she'd like it if he's uncomfortable. Of course if he's concentrating, he won't notice anything. I've never seen anybody who can focus in the way he can."

"I love a man who pays attention. If he's not there, we can head to the gallery. I want to see your show." Emmett paused, frowning, "Jared asked me to pass you a message. He wants the press conference to be tomorrow afternoon at the gallery. An interview here on Friday followed by one in Pittsburgh on Sunday. He said if the press finds you before that it's _No comment_."

"Why?"

"He doesn't want the jerks who hunt you down to get the jump on the respectable journalists who will wait for tomorrow."

"Not that, I get the no comment part. Why does he want me to go to Pittsburgh?"

"He's arranged for you to have a small showing at the Bloom Gallery, just a half dozen paintings, starting next week. He's arranging shipping from the gallery here. The interview will peak interest."

"The Bloom Gallery? My God, he works fast."

"In more ways than one," Emmett said with a small smirk. His eyes lit up at the thought of Jared.

"Why, Emmett Honeycutt, you've made a new friend already?" Justin stopped in his tracks with a wide smile. "He is hot, isn't he?"

"Gorgeous. I just love that forceful attitude of his. He wants to take me out to show me a few night spots in Chelsea."

"And you said?" Justin prodded with a raised brow.

"What do you think? I barely stopped myself from jumping him. I gave him my cell number. We'll see what happens." Emmett gave a little hop of delight as they resumed walking.

Emmett turned serious for a moment. "Justin, when the detective was interviewing you, you remembered things from before the bashing. How much? Did you remember the dance?"

"No - just Hobbs pushing me around and then asking Daphne to go." Justin shook his head sadly. "Shit, I want to remember that dance. I still can't believe Brian came."

"He always does," Emmett joked. "I wonder why you're remembering now. Has something changed?"

"I don't think so." Justin changed the subject, away from the remembered pain. "When do you want to check out the Wild Rover?"

"Tomorrow night?" Emmett smiled at Justin's nod. "Do you think Brian really has long, lost relatives here?"

"I hope so. It'd be nice if he had at least one relative who wasn't a homophobic moron."

"Well, we'll check it out and see if they're okay first. If they're anything like his parents, I vote we just never go to the pub."

"I like that plan." Justin agreed, pleased that Emmett also saw the need to protect Brian. "Any new gossip?"

Emmett laughed, "Did you hear the latest about Cyndi Lauper?"

Justin shook his head with a smile and relaxed, enjoying Emmett's rambling discussion of movies and friends. As they entered the house, Eric could be heard talking in the background.

After dropping off their coats, Justin and Emmett entered the living room. In front of Eric were two large monitors, both linked to a single computer. On one of the screens was the face of a middle-aged oriental man in a dress shirt and tie. The other screen contained a three-dimensional cylinder filled with little bouncing balls glowing light blue.

"As you can see, Dr. Lee, the change in material allows you to achieve criticality with a smaller reactor core. More in line with your production model targets. More importantly, the new shell will remain intact at higher temperatures and won't absorb strontium."

"Thank you, Eric. Brilliant as usual." Dr. Lee made some notes on a pad in front of him. "I don't know how you do it."

"Do you have everything you need?" Eric smiled at the confirming nod. "Great. Dr. Edwards asked for some help with the design of his new brake system."

"No!" screamed Dr. Lee. "Eric, do not call Martin until after you write two papers. One on the material solution and the second on the tuning to the reactor model you did." Dr. Lee's apparent agitation caused Justin and Emmett to exchange a quick glance.

"Little high strung, isn't he?" Emmett murmured to Justin. Justin shrugged in response.

Eric stared at Dr. Lee, puzzled. "You understand the proposed solution, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

Eric tilted his head to the side and rubbed his hand through his hair, causing it to stand on end. "Then why do I need to write it down, it's a waste of time."

"Eric," Dr. Lee continued, forcibly calming himself. "Dr. Lankin spoke to you about the need to finish your thesis, didn't he?"

"Yes, but…" Eric started.

"No buts." Dr. Lee stated firmly. "The advisory team will take anything, but you need to write it. Think of this as a homework assignment. Just write the papers. They can be short. A few pages, we don't care."

"Why does it matter?" Eric demanded. "Writing up solutions to problems when the person with the problem understands it is tedious, non-value added work. A complete and utter waste of my time."

"One paper will get you your master's degree. Two gets you your doctorate."

"Why do you care? I'm doing fine."

Dr. Lee looked up, praying to the heavens for patience. "You two; standing at the back. Come closer."

Emmett and Justin walked in closer to the camera. "You wanted us?" Justin asked.

"You're friends of Eric's, right?" Dr. Lee demanded.

"Yes," Justin replied.

"I certainly plan to be," from Emmett.

"Good. He needs to get his doctorate. The only things stopping him are the written theses. He completed the course work over a year ago. You understand?"

"Not really," responded Emmett.

"I do," laughed Justin. "Eric, why haven't you finished the papers?"

"It's non-value added." Eric's emphatic statement caused Dr. Lee to throw his hands up in disgust. "I solve problems for people."

"And you do it very well," Dr. Lee answered. "But it's becoming embarrassing for the university. We have one of the most brilliant graduate student's in the country and we can't get him to matriculate. Do you know what his IQ is?" Dr. Lee yelled.

Both Justin and Emmett shook their heads no.

"It's not relevant," Eric stated firmly. "They don't need to know."

"196 - they estimate Einstein at 170," Dr. Lee continued heatedly, ignoring Eric.

"You're smarter than Einstein?" Emmett squeaked disbelievingly.

Eric glared at Emmett in response. "I agree with Hawking. People who cite IQ's are losers." His intense frustration showed as he responded to Dr. Lee. "I wish I hadn't taken the damn test and I really wish you'd stop announcing it."

"And I really wish you'd finish your work and graduate." Dr. Lee shook his head. "Eric, no one at the university is going to discuss problems with you until you write the papers. Consider this an order from the dean of engineering. Do not even show up at the school until you've finished." Dr. Lee looked to Emmett and Justin. "Make him finish the papers. And buy him a suit. When he does his thesis defense, he has to be presentable."

As Dr. Lee signed off, Justin glanced at Eric. "He was pretty emphatic."

Eric's shoulders dropped, "Yeah, he was. They must be really annoyed if they don't want me to help anymore." Eric dropped onto the couch and leaned back, closing his eyes, the picture of defeat.

Emmett exchanged a glance with Justin then walked over and sat down beside Eric and put a sympathetic arm around him. "Just tell Auntie Em all about it. Maybe I can help."

Eric's amber eyes opened and he smiled at Emmett. "You want to write two papers?"

"I was actually thinking about helping with the suit. I was lousy at math." Emmett rolled his eyes. "Thank God. Can you imagine me in a lab?"

Eric's eyes widened as he took in Emmett's outfit, the way the red shirt clung to every muscle. "Not really, no. You're Emmett, right?"

Emmett gave Eric a quick hug. "Emmett Honeycutt of the Hazelhurst Honeycutts' at your service."

Justin dropped onto the couch on the other side of Eric. "Why don't you want to finish your theses? You could knock it off in a day or two. I don't think they really care what you write, as long as you write something."

"I don't know. I never seem to find the time." Eric gave a light, defensive shrug as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Emmett tilted his head thoughtfully. "What happens after you graduate?"

"I either become a professor or find a job. I never really thought about it."

Emmett raised an eyebrow at Justin before turning back to Eric. "Maybe you should." Emmett got up, grabbed Eric by the arm and pulled him off the couch. "In the meantime, go throw on some decent clothes, the tighter the better." At Eric's puzzled look, Emmett explained gently. "We're going to go buy you a suit, honey."

As Eric went upstairs to change, Emmett spoke softly to Justin. "Poor guy. He's terrified of what happens after he graduates."

"How do you figure that?" Justin asked quietly.

"He hasn't thought about it. How many university students do you know that haven't at least thought about the future?"

"None."

"Exactly my point," Emmett said meaningfully. "Bunch of egghead scientists can't see he's frightened. That's why he's stalling."

"You're probably right," Justin agreed. "Got any ideas?"

"We need to get him thinking about the future." Emmett looked thoughtful. "I think I'll drop by the university tomorrow after I sign the papers for Startime. My bank forms can wait. See if I can get his idiot advisor to give some useful advice for a change."


	23. Chapter 23 House Hunting

**Chapter 23 – House Hunting**

Justin let out a worried sigh as he sipped his coffee in the diner where he and Miranda Avery were taking a break from house hunting. The first four locations they'd looked at were either perfect for Brian or perfect for Lindsay. "None of the locations we've looked at so far today are going to cut it."

Miranda, a middle-aged brunette with an easy smile, gave Justin's hand a reassuring pat. "I know, what's more important, I know why. Don't worry, Justin. We're just getting started. Now that we've spent the morning talking, I've got a much better idea of what you guys need in homes. I'll have better choices for you tomorrow."

Justin gave a slight smile. "Well, I'm going to add Brian's business office to the mix. He asked me to get you to start looking." Justin outlined the requirements. "He won't want to set up in a standard office building, even the nicest in New York. He'll want a building with some history, serious personality. His office in Pittsburgh is built in a gay bathhouse."

Miranda choked slightly on her coffee. "A bathhouse? Okay, that's different. Do the clients know?"

Justin chuckled. "It's hard to miss the shower fixtures on the walls. The clients find it interesting. As an office, it's brilliant. Brian's advertising motto is; sex sells, the explanation gets the client thinking the right way to sell his campaigns to them."

Miranda looked thoughtful for a moment then started to smile, excited. "I think you may just be the solution to a long-term problem for me." She gathered up her purse and coat, swallowed down her coffee hastily and stood. "Come on, let's go."

"Okay, I'm coming." Quickly finishing his coffee, Justin grabbed his coat and headed for the door. "Where are we going?"

"The Church of Angels," Miranda grinned. "I think it might meet all your needs. Even if it doesn't, as an artist, it's worth seeing."

Justin's smile faded. "Brian will not want to have his business in a church, no matter how much history it has."

Miranda sparkled as she walked quickly to her car. "That's good because the Church of Angels wasn't really a church. Let's see if I can put this delicately - it was a house of ill-repute disguised as a church."

"A whore house?"

Miranda chuckled at the question. "A little less delicate, but accurate. It was a place where angels of both sexes prayed for the wealthy and helped them achieve redemption." Miranda explained with a twinkle in her expressive brown eyes as they drove west, "The church was built at the turn of the twentieth century by the current owner's grandparents. They met when he was a client at her previous establishment. He was an artist. She was a… well, let's call her a very wealthy entrepreneur. She'd made a fortune as a madam to New York's elite, but was getting some pressure to close down. The church disguised the activities. Her granddaughter, the current owner, married one of the wealthiest Avery's in the nineteen fifties."

"You're kidding, right?" Justin asked. "A two generation move from a brothel to the New York A-list?"

"By the nineteen fifties when Aunt Tilda got married, the church was no longer taking clients. Lucian and Claire Breen were considered quite respectable."

"Lucian Breen? I love his work."

"Then you're going to love the church. He spent most of his youth designing and painting it. The building is an historic site because of his work." With that Miranda pulled into the parking lot of a circular church. The two story building had clear glass windows on the second floor near the front with stained glass around the sides and on the first floor. A bell tower at the front capped the entryway. A small brick house sat near the back of the church with a covered walkway connecting the two.

"When the church was first built, the Breen's lived in the back of the building in an apartment. After their daughter was born, they built the house to move into. It's a much more traditional place, and in the style of the times, not that large. They used their old apartment for entertaining and didn't need a big home."

Justin looked worried. "I really want to see the art, so thanks for bringing me. But this is a huge property in Manhattan. We're well off, but this is going to be out of our price range. It has to be."

Miranda smiled softly. "That's the interesting part. I have no idea what the asking price is. Aunt Tilda told me to find the right people for it and let her know when I did." Her face was a study in affection and frustration. "I've brought about fifty people to the church and sent about half of those to her. Of those, she only interviewed half and never gave any of them a price. She turned them all away."

"You're telling me not to get my hopes up."

"Definitely." Miranda looked at Justin. "But it's worth seeing anyway." With that Miranda opened the double doors of the church, gesturing for Justin to enter.

Justin walked into a small room with double doors made of oak leading into the main church. Miranda took his coat and walked around a corner to hang it up. Both the walls were hung with pictures showing the history of the church.

Justin's eyes lit up as he walked through the doors. The church was bright as natural light streamed in through the second floor windows and bounced off the light walls and marble floor. The outer section of the first floor held a series of rooms and open areas separated by eight pillars extending all the way to the ceiling. The second floor consisted of open lofts running the circumference of the church with pillars extending from ground floor upward. The center of the church was a large oval room with a two story ceiling. A scaffold stood in the middle of the room allowing access to the ceiling. As Justin looked up, he gasped in shock.

The entire ceiling was covered with a single painting of heaven. The angels were of all races and both sexes and were all naked except for their wings and engaged in a wide variety of sexual activities. The work displayed none of the prurience that one might expect, rather an innocent joy forcing the questions. _Why would angels need clothes anyway? _and_ How do you think we spend our time? _Off to one side of the heavens sat God, smiling with delight at the universe he had made, an angel in his arms. Justin couldn't help himself, he started to smile back. With a quick look at Miranda for permission, Justin climbed the scaffold to study the work closely.

"He must have spent years painting this. The brush work is incredibly detailed." Justin couldn't hold back his delight as he stuck his head over the edge of the scaffold to look down at Miranda. "Why haven't I ever seen any pictures of this? This is amazing."

"Aunt Tilda was afraid of right wing religious groups objecting to the content and burning down the church. She's never allowed pictures to be taken." Miranda laughed as Justin kept moving around the scaffold. "Why don't you come back down and I'll show you the rest."

After Justin's descent, Miranda led the way into a hallway running the length of the church.

"This hall allows access for clients to the private rooms without being seen by everyone in the gathering area. For those who value discretion," Miranda tossed out with a small grin. On the outer side of the hallway, doors stood open, the daylight passing though the colored glass windows casting unique and beautiful shadows, illuminating the murals held in some rooms. Justin's favorite was of a gleeful Eve, holding out an apple to Adam with a mischievous little smile as her other hand reached for him, already hard at the sight of her. In the background of the picture multi-race couples and groups, gay and straight, angel and human were making love in an assortment of wild positions.

Miranda remained silent as Justin admired the artwork in each room. At the end of the hall, she gestured toward a door. "That door leads to the lower level. It's where the angels lived. There's a large communal bath, a kitchen, living area and about a dozen smaller rooms. The other side on the main floor has the same basic layout as this side but no paintings. Come on – let's head up to the lofts." With that, Miranda led Justin to the front of the church where she opened a well-hidden panel leading to a winding staircase. At the top, she stepped out onto an open loft with an oak railing that ran the length of the church. The loft on the other side was identical. Moving to the back of the church, they crossed a narrow walkway to a third loft. In this area, natural light flowed through clear glass, illuminating the entire area.

"Welcome to Lucian Breen's studio."

Justin looked at the wide open space with awe, wandering over to a window looking out on the city before moving back to the rail. "This is spectacular. Anyone could work here." Justin frowned slightly, looking down into the main room. "What are those lines in the marble floor?"

Miranda followed his gaze down, seeing the grid pattern. "They're tracks designed to slide objects in and out easily and support them. You have to pull up the covers. I believe they used them for floors, false walls, tables, sexual props."

Justin shook his head with delight as he looked down. "You could set up whatever floor layout you wanted for Kinnetic. Thank you so much for bringing me here. Even if we don't get it, and I know we probably won't, it was worth the trip to see Breen's work."

"We're not done yet," Miranda said as she moved down the stairs and back through the church. She opened another hidden panel, took out a key and opened a door leading into a short hallway. At the end of the hall, she unlocked another door and announced, "Here's the apartment."

Justin walked through and looked around in awe at the open space. "He really was ahead of his time, wasn't he?"

"Very much so, the apartment has three large bedrooms, two baths, a kitchen, library and living area. The kitchen badly needs modernizing as do the bathrooms. The living area is huge, easily able to accommodate their entertaining a dozen or more friends." Miranda continued on with a smile. "They were famous for their dinner parties when they were younger. This would work for you and Brian. There is a small servants apartment on the lower floor with it's own external entrance. They had a live-in housekeeper."

Miranda opened another door leading to the covered walkway. "Claire built the house because she didn't want her daughter to be raised in a brothel. It's modest and very traditional. This was their private space."

"Lindsay would love this." Glancing around, Justin wasn't sure how to feel. "You're right, you know. This is absolutely perfect for us. I loved seeing it." Justin smiled sadly, "After your Aunt Tilda turns us down or it's out of our price range, it's going to be impossible to find anything I like as much. You know that, don't you?"

Matilda patted Justin's arm reassuringly. "It's funny. I've brought dozens of potential home owners here and they just didn't click. I have a funny feeling, though, that that's about to change. We'll have to see what Aunt Tilda says."

With that, Miranda opened her cell and placed a call. Wandering away from Justin, she spoke softly into the phone. After a few minutes, she called over. "She'd like to have dinner with you, Brian, Lindsay and Gus on Friday night. Can you make it?"

"Brian was planning to come in anyway and Lindsay's not working, so it should be doable. I'll give Brian a call, he'll make it happen."


	24. Chapter 24 In the News Part 1

**Chapter 24 – In the News Part 1**

Justin stood at the top of the steps to the back room of the gallery with Jared. Noelle and Lisa stood off to the side, watching. The gallery owners had been concerned about the press conference, but Jared had talked them into it with an offer to showcase one of his other artists. About twenty reporters had shown up and Justin had been answering questions for fifteen minutes.

Jared stepped in front of Justin for a moment to announce, "We have time for one last question." At the sight of a short, balding man waving his hand frantically near the front of the group, Jared gave the man the nod.

"What do you say to the millions of people who, like me, agree with Chris Hobbs that what you do is an abomination? Those who say he was right to do what he did?"

Jared stepped in front of Justin, "That question is… " he started as Justin interrupted calmly, "I'll answer him."

Jared looked back at Justin, "You don't have to."

"I know," Justin smiled slightly as Jared moved back. He looked down at the fervent man. "Thank you for asking, I do have a couple of things I would like to say to the people condemning me to death." The room quieted at the bald statement.

"First, the bible verse you cited is from Leviticus. Why don't you read Leviticus – all of it? If you do, you'll agree it shouldn't be taken literally. If we were to do so, every child who ever cursed their parents would be put to death." Justin chuckled, inviting the listeners in, "and we'd all have beards down to the floor."

"Personally, I like the ten commandments better. Thou shall not kill is my personal favorite," Justin paused, flashing a rueful smile, "probably because people keep trying to kill me."

As the chuckles died down, Justin became serious. "What do I say to those who want to kill me for the sin of being gay?" Justin paused, taking a deep breath, "There's really not a lot to say. You've chosen to hate. It's irrational, so reasoning with you won't work. I, like Martin Luther King, have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden for me to bear."

"For everyone else watching, I'll cite my favorite civil rights leader one more time." Justin paused for a moment looking directly into the cameras. "The ultimate tragedy is not the oppression and cruelty by the bad people but the silence over that by the good people."

* * *

Michael entered the loft, seeing Brian sitting on the couch in front of the television. "Why didn't you answer the door?"

"Maybe I didn't want company." Brian turned off the TV set and said quietly, "Have you seen the news?"

"Yeah, everybody's talking about it." Michael walked over to Brian, dropped down on the couch beside him, noticing Brian's frown. "Justin was amazing. The news stations keep playing the ending of his interview over and over again. The folks at the GLC called and they want Justin to host their next event."

Brian grimly poured himself another Jim Beam, shooting it back. "I told him that would happen."

"What?" Michael asked. "How could you know that?"

"Mikey, I know what sells. Justin does it without even fucking trying." Brian smirked, "Too bad he lives in New York."

"Not really. The Gay and Lesbian Services Center in New York got hold of our GLC people and asked how to reach him. They contacted Ben to ask for his number. I can't imagine why they didn't just call you," Michael needled gently.

Brian snorted in response to the question. "They hate my guts, Mikey, don't you remember?"

"More like they're terrified of you."

"They should be – I've worked hard at it." Brian's smirk turned serious, "Did the professor give them Justin's number?"

Michael shook his head. "He wouldn't do that without talking to Justin first. He's going to call him this evening. I thought you might like to talk to him before that happens."

"I already have," Brian stood abruptly, lighting a cigarette and walking over to look out of the window. "Justin will become the figurehead of the entire movement if they ask him to. He has to stand up and be counted. Bravest man I know – the stupid twat."

"It is one of Boy Wonder's most annoying traits," Michael agreed. "Why don't you help him?"

"Me? Help the gay rights movement?" Brian shook his head, his mood abruptly lightening, "What drugs are you on?"

"None," Michael said with a gentle smile, watching his best friend closely.

"Why on earth do you think I'd want to do something so incredibly fucking lame?"

"I can think of a few reasons. You can help set up Justin's image, maybe make him less of a target. They'd pay you, maybe not your normal fees, but still. Last but not least – you'd piss off an incredible number of heterosexuals."

"At least you didn't suggest I'd want to do it because of the nobility of the cause."

"I know you too well to even think it," Michael agreed with a laugh. "Pretend you're running the marketing campaign, how'd Justin do?"

Brian took a drag on his cigarette as he thought it through. "Not bad. The last King quote was a bit too much. The largest swayable demographic will be females in the eighteen to forty-five age range. You need to gain them through humor, romance and sympathy. Guilt won't work as well on them, but it will work for the men watching. He's managed to get an incredible amount of free air time, which is impressive."

"There is something compelling about a blond, perfectly mannered WASP following in Martin Luther King's footsteps."

"I'm just scared he's going to follow Mr. King straight into his early grave," Brian responded quietly.

* * *

At the Pennsylvania State Penitentiary, Petri Hotari stood guard with a co-worker over a dozen inmates in the recreation center. Most were watching television and two were playing a game of chess. Petri, a large man in his fifties, had high hopes for a quiet shift. This group of inmates wasn't usually a problem.

As the news came on, one of the occupants was quickly becoming agitated, shifting in his chair and muttering under his breath. Petri looked around to find the problem, but nothing unusual existed that gave a hint to the source. To his shock, the inmate, Chris Hobbs, suddenly stood and screamed like a madman.

"Why don't you stay dead? I keep killing you, but you just won't stay dead!"

Stunned, Petri stared as the bomber broke into violent tears, almost begging the television, "Why won't you stay dead?" Breaking down completely, Hobbs sat back down in his chair, crying and muttering, endlessly, "How often do I have to kill you for you to stay dead?"

* * *

Don Rennick looked at his assistant district attorney in surprise. "The sight of Justin Taylor on television caused Hobbs to have a complete breakdown?"

Larry nodded emphatically, "He started screaming at the television and asking how often he had to kill Taylor in order for him to stay dead. You realize he's totally insane, right?"

"I'm starting to figure that out. What did the staff psychologist say?"

"Unfortunately, Hobbs got himself back together before the shrink could get much out of him. The one thing he did learn is that Hobbs is suffering from a recurrent nightmare where he kills Taylor, but then sees Taylor come back from the dead." Larry's disgust evident, he continued, "He kills Taylor over and over again in his dreams."

"That won't be admissible. Do we have any footage of his prison breakdown?"

"They're shipping it over this afternoon."

"Excellent. If that's what happens when Hobbs sees an image of Taylor, I wonder what would happen if we brought the two of them face-to-face?" Rennick speculated.

Larry, intrigued at the possibility, thought through how to set it up. "One of the detectives mentioned that Taylor is coming into Pittsburgh this weekend. It might be a good time to interview both him and Hobbs downtown. I could talk to the detective about it."

Rennick smiled in response, "Why don't you do that? And make sure the cameras are turned on."


	25. Chapter 25 Conversations

**Chapter 25 – Conversations**

Leo Brown reached across the table to shake Brian's hand as their meeting concluded. "I, for one, am glad you're setting up a New York office, Brian. It'll be more convenient for me since I'm in New York at least once a month."

"I'm happy to hear that, Leo. You'll be getting an invitation to the opening."

"It's going to be interesting to see what kind of space you get," Leo said pointedly, looking around the bathhouse.

"I'm not fond of working in a box," Brian agreed with a smile. "Although I may need to set up in a conventional office until I find something better."

"Let's hope not. I'd hate to have anything stifle that creativity of yours. I'll see you in a month for the new campaign." Leo Brown gave a polite nod and headed out of Brian's office.

"Cynthia," Brian snapped into the intercom, "Where the hell is my flight information?"

A man came around the corner holding an itinerary. "Here you go, sir. Your flight leaves for New York on Friday at noon. The limo will be picking up your luggage from your housekeeper, your son and his mother and then collecting you here forty-five minutes early to take you to the airport."

Brian stared in bemusement at the brunet, wondering just who the hell this guy was and why he had a Welshman in his office.

Dark gray eyes met hazel with a slight smile as the younger man continued, "After landing, a limo will meet you to take you to Mr. Taylor's interview and then back to his townhouse to change and freshen up before dinner. Dinner reservations have been made at seven-thirty at the Wiltshire where Ms. Peterson and Master Gus have their room reservations. The limousine will, of course, be available all evening and the following morning." A slight frown creased the rather handsome face, "Your return flight on Saturday will leave New York at eleven forty-five, getting you back in time for Mr. Taylor to inspect the exhibit at the Bloom Gallery before your planned meeting with Mr. Novotny at the Liberty Diner at six-thirty. Mr. Taylor's interview at the gallery is scheduled for Sunday at eleven. You are then expected at the police station at two." He looked up from reading, "Will you need the limo on either Saturday evening or on Sunday, sir? It wasn't clear."

"No, I won't need the limo. Who the fuck are you?" Brian queried bluntly.

"Your new assistant - Gareth Llewellyn." Gareth stood steady in the face of Brian's glare, "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

"Get me Cynthia," Brian barked. "Now!"

"Certainly, sir." Gareth gave a small nod and exited the room.

A few minutes later, Cynthia rushed around the corner of Brian's office. "You met Gareth."

"Who is Gareth and why shouldn't I fill out a pink slip now?" Brian's voice was deceptively gentle.

"I had to go external to hire you an assistant for New York, since I'm taking over running the office here." Cynthia shook her head slightly, "Even though a large number of our younger staff are willing to relocate, no one wants to work directly for you?" Cynthia smirked, "Any ideas why?"

Brian glared, "You hired a gay assistant for me? Christ, Cynthia, what were you thinking?"

Cynthia glared back. "That you won't scare him away and you'd rather have him than any of the females in this office. They'll either cry because you're mean or lust after you."

Brian shuddered slightly at the thought. "You think he can keep up?"

"Probably. He's younger than you." Cynthia grinned, "More stamina."

"Bitch," Brian muttered. "Am I going to have to pay to relocate him to New York?"

"No and Brian," Cynthia turned serious, "I'm just trying to save you the hassle of finding someone yourself. I interviewed a lot of people before selecting him. Give him a chance for the next week. If you don't click, he can stay and work here and I'll find someone else."

"He reminds me of someone. I wonder if I fucked him," Brian mused thoughtfully.

"Ianto Jones," Cynthia exclaimed with delight.

"Who?"

"Torchwood. He looks and sounds like Ianto Jones." Cynthia started to laugh, "I love listening to him talk." At the puzzled look on Brian's face, she explained, "It's a spinoff of Doctor Who. Check it out on YouTube. The scenes between Jack and Ianto are really hot."

"Keep this up and I'm going to start thinking you're the ultimate fag hag," Brian quipped with a smirk.

"Liking the sight of two gorgeous men making out does not make me a fag hag." Cynthia then continued, looking thoughtful, "Being able to stand working for you, though. It's possible."

Brian smiled as he watched Cynthia leave then sat back down to work on the Nexus account. After a few moments, a message box appeared.

_**J.T.**_: Hey, Stud. You there?

**Rage**: What's up?

_**J.T.**_: That's way too easy. What are you doing right now?

**Rage**: Working, but not too hard at the moment. You?

_**J.T.**_: Just wanted to check that you, Lindsay and Gus are coming in on Friday.

**Rage**: Yeah. Remind me again – why am I doing this?

_**J.T.**_: To talk to a woman that's never liked anyone about buying a place you've never seen for an amount of money you can't afford.

**Rage**: Right. You know that if we get it and I hate the place, I'm going to spend the next thirty years taking it out on your ass.

_**J.T.**_: Sounds like fun. Too bad I know you'll like it. And I think we'll get it.

**Rage**: Great. Then I can fuck you in every available room in a whorehouse. That works, too.

_**J.T.**_: I like that plan. Maybe we can replay collecting on the bet.

**Rage**: That was hot. I really liked letting you win that one.

_**J.T.**_: Let me win? You knew it was Todd?

**Rage**: Of course.

_**J.T.**_: I knew ;-)

**Rage**:…

_**J.T.**_: Brian – you still there?

**Rage**: You knew I lost on purpose.

_**J.T.**_: When you went to talk to Todd I figured it out. I loved that you wanted me to win.

**Rage**: Had to see what your plans were ;-)

_**J.T.**_: About what you expected?

**Rage**: Better. Using all those toys on you – knowing you were going to use them on me the same way the next night. Christ, I'm getting hard again just thinking about it.

_**J.T.**_: Had to win two nights. You're so fucking non-verbal I had to get you to show me how far I could go topping your ass.

**Rage**: And now you know.

_**J.T.**_: Yippee! Want to do it again?

**Rage**: Once in a lifetime experience.

_**J.T.**_: Wanna bet?

Brian leaned back in his chair, laughing as Gareth came around the corner. "Sir, there's a Detective Horvath here who wishes to speak with you."

"Carl?" Brian looked up, concerned. "Send him in." He turned back to the computer.

**Rage**: Hold up a minute, Jus. Carl's here to talk to me.

_**J.T.**_: Carl? Weird. No prob. I'll wait.

Brian stood, wondering what could bring the detective to the doors of Kinnetics.

As Carl entered the room and nodded cautiously, "Brian. Interesting office you've got."

"It suits me." Brian smirked slightly, "Somehow I don't think you're here to talk about my office."

"Of course not. I came to warn you." Carl shifted uncomfortably. "You might want to talk to Justin as well."

"Warn us about what?"

"This Sunday's meeting with the police is a set up. They want to bring Justin and Hobbs face-to-face."

"What!" Brian paused for a moment, collecting himself. "What the fuck are the cops up to?"

"Not all the cops are in on this or even approve. That's why I got warned and I'm warning you." Carl smiled grimly. "Hobbs is insane. The DA believes that if he sees Justin in person, he'll flip and we'll be able to put him away without a trial. He won't be able to resist bragging. It takes away the risk of homophobic juries or judges influencing the outcome."

"So Justin has to confront Hobbs because he's gay and our own district attorney thinks Hobbs might not get sent away because only gays got hurt."

Carl looked uncomfortably to the side, "That about sums it up."

"That is totally fucked up, Carl, and you know it."

"At least this DA is trying to put the bastard away."

"Unlike last time," Brian calmed down, slightly mollified, staring at Carl. "Will it work?"

"Probably. I talked to the warden at the prison. He agreed that Hobbs will lose it. He'll confess in front of a room full of cops. At that point he'll need to bargain down to avoid the death penalty."

"Shit." Brian reached over to the computer.

**Rage**: Call me. Carl needs to talk to both of us.

A few minutes later, Justin's voice came over the speakerphone. "Hey, Carl. What's going on?"

"Hi, Justin. I came by to warn you boys about something." Carl went on to explain the situation to Justin. As the explanation concluded there was a long silence from the other end of the phone followed by a long sigh.

"Carl, tell me the truth. Will this help put Hobbs away?" Justin asked.

"I think it might help a great deal."

"Tell them I'll be at the police station on time, but that I expect a lot of space between Chris and me. I do not want to get up close and personal. I've had enough close encounters with that man."

"I'll pass the message along, Justin." Carl nodded at Brian as he started walking out, "I'll be going now."

"Brian," Justin's voice continued. "You alone now?"

"Yes. Are you sure you're okay with seeing Hobbs?"

"I'm sure. I'm also sure I don't want to talk about it between now and then. There are better things to spend our time on."

"Like what?"

"Do you want to know what I'm wearing?"

Brian's voice deepened, "Absolutely."

"Nooothing!" Justin's voice surrounded Brian, warming him, distracting him from the conversation with Carl.

In the outer office, Gareth quickly set the phone down. His new job was proving quite interesting – more so than he would have expected. Things seemed to happen around Brian Kinney. As his own line rang, Gareth answered.

"Gerald. How is your new life panning out?" Gareth winced as he recognized the voice on the other end of the line.

"The name is Gareth, sir. And my new life is fine. The only problem with it at the moment is this phone call."

"I'm sorry about that, but I wanted to touch base one last time to see if I could get you to change your mind."

"No, sir, you can't. I've left the service. I am looking forward to living a normal civilian life." Gareth's voice darkened considerably, "I will thank you to respect my wishes in this matter. I believe I have earned that."

"Yes, you have, son." The older voice sighed deeply, "I won't call again. If you ever need anything, just call us."

"Thank you, sir. What I need most is for you to forget I ever existed." With that, Gareth hung up the phone. Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes briefly, letting go of the past.


	26. Chapter 26 Family

**Chapter 26 – Family**

Justin and Emmett walked down the darkening street, heading toward the Wild Rover.

"What did Eric's professor say?" asked Justin.

"He was struck speechless by my fabulous attire, of course," Emmett confided with a grin. "After he recovered, I got the story of Eric's life. Did you know that gorgeous young man came to the university at fifteen?"

"I thought I grew up fast."

"He grew up in a trailer park in the middle of nowhere. When he first got here, he lived with a family named Lewis, dated their daughter Daisy. They moved away. After that, he moved into the men's dorm for a couple of years, then some roommates and then finally with you and Ari."

"He started pretty young, but other than that it all sounds pretty normal." Justin thought out loud. "So why doesn't he want to graduate?"

"I asked the professor if they'd ever discussed what Eric would do after he graduates and he got really excited. They're planning to give him a non-teaching professorship under the dean of engineering. They're creating it just for him." Emmett started laughing, "As we were talking, the poor man realized that he'd never actually spoken to Eric about it. He's asking around to see if anybody else has."

"So Eric sees his most trusted friends and advisors pushing him to graduate, which pushes him out of his only home, but they really want him to stay and nobody noticed that they haven't told him about the job?" Justin asked incredulously. At Emmett's nod, Justin swore, "Idiots. Well, at least some problems are easy to fix. Is Dr Lankin telling him about the job offer?"

"He certainly is. He's out of town tomorrow, but he'll talk to him on Friday." Emmett grinned as a thought struck him. "Did you tell Eric about the deal with Brian?"

"Yeah, I thought I should warn him that Brian's going to want to kiss him the next time he sees him." Justin started laughing, "I don't think I could have confused him more. He told me he's not very experienced at relationships, but that Brian's and mine seemed a bit unorthodox to him."

"A bit unorthodox?" Emmett chortled. "That has to be the understatement of the millennium." He looked up at the entryway of a well-lit pub. "Here we are."

Justin opened the door to the Wild Rover, holding it for Emmett and immediately smiled, relaxing. The pub was one of the most welcoming places he'd ever been, although he knew the appeal wouldn't be universal. The large, open area had heavy wooden tables of different sizes scattered throughout the room, most filled with casually dressed families or groups. A mild scent of roast beef mingled with tobacco and deep-fried food. At one side, a game of darts was accompanied by insults, cheers and jeers from the surrounding tables. To the left of the bar, a small stage with an upright piano had a small group singing folk songs. The excellent music filled the room, but wasn't loud enough to kill the conversations.

"Welcome to the Rover. Well, now, I've not seen you two lads in here before, now have I?" a smiling voice with an Irish lilt was accompanied by a small red-haired woman.

"No, this is our first time. We've both just moved to New York," Justin answered.

"Well, then, we can only hope you'll like our company and we'll see you often in the future. I'm your hostess, Aileen Kinney-Stafford. Now, you've a few choices about where to sit. You can join the boys at the dart board, take the small table near the front or join Aiden at the bar. I wouldn't recommend taking the table, the Montgomery's are at the table next. She's a lovely woman but I'm afraid that the children aren't accustomed to being out in public yet." With those words, a fight broke out between the two children at the corner table which quickly escalated into small objects being thrown. "They don't come in all that often," Aileen continued with a sigh, "and I haven't the heart to turn her away. I think she needs the break more than most."

Justin and Emmett exchanged laughing glances before Justin responded, "The bar would be great."

As she led them to the bar, Aileen continued the light conversation, "You're in luck tonight, with young Nick at the piano there, the music is guaranteed excellent." As she sat them at the bar she called out, "Aiden, I've got a couple of new migrants to New York for you." Tossing them an easy smile as she handed them menus, Aileen moved toward the kitchen.

With those words, a tall, slim brunet came around the corner, face lighting in an easy smile. "Welcome. I'm Aiden Kinney. What can I get you?"

Neither Justin nor Emmett could respond. But for very subtle differences, green eyes instead of hazel, casual, inexpensive clothes instead of designer, Brian Kinney stood before them. The immediate impression was softer, slightly blurred - more sensual than overtly sexual.

Aiden began to look a bit puzzled as the two men continued to stare. "Cat got your tongue, lads?"

The question, with its Irish lilt, jarred Justin out of his shock, "I'll have a beer and Emmett would like a cosmo."

"I haven't had a request for…" Aiden started.

"Aiden Kinney!" Aileen yelled as she rounded the corner from the kitchen. The sound in the pub immediately dropped as the musicians lowered their volume to hear. "You've given both Mitchell and Robert the night off? We're packed! I can't manage this many tables and Brenda needs to go home to her daughter. What were you thinking?"

Aiden's slightly panicked look held a hint of apology. "I was thinking that the boys are in love and Mitchell wanted to introduce Robert to his grandmother at her birthday party. I was also thinking that Josie could come in, but I called and she's ill. And I was thinking it's Wednesday night, and we're never this busy on a Wednesday."

"But we are tonight." Aileen's eyes were smoldering as she glared at her brother. "I'm the one who gets to handle all the tables, while you lord it back here."

One of the men at the dartboard yelled over. "We'll serve ourselves, Aileen. Just leave it at the bar and wave at us." The young man gave Aiden a suggestive look, "Besides, Aiden and I haven't seen each other in a while. It'll give us a chance to visit."

Justin watched the exchange, rapidly assessing. "I can help," he offered softly. "I know how to wait tables."

"Looking for a job, lad?" Aileen asked with interest.

"No, but I don't mind helping out."

She looked at Justin curiously, "You're brand new here. Why would you want to do that?"

Justin exchanged a quick glance with Emmett, who nodded in agreement. "You're family. Why wouldn't I offer?"

"Family?" Aileen said with a laugh. "How do you figure that? You don't look at all Irish."

"No, but my partner, Brian Kinney does." Justin nodded in Aiden's direction while reaching for his wallet. "He and Aiden could be twins." Justin pulled out a picture of Brian hugging him and laid it on the bar.

"The long lost cousins," said Aileen softly before raising her voice, "Hugh, get out here." A moment later, a very tall, very thin, brown-haired man with an easy smile came through the kitchen door.

"What's up?" Hugh's deep, gravelly voice with a pure New York accent was a remarkable contrast to Aileen's Irish lilt.

"Family," Aileen said with a smile. "My father looked for his cousin Jack Kinney when he first came to America. Aiden and I were twelve. I think we just found him, thanks to this young man," Aileen gave Justin a quick smile. "Justin, this is my husband Hugh Stafford."

A voice came from the far corner of the restaurant, "Aileen, can I get my order?"

Aileen looked up, startled, before calling back. "Just give me a moment, Dennis. There's momentous things happening here."

Justin laughed, "It isn't going to get less busy if no one gets served. Why don't you hand me one of those aprons and we can talk after it slows down?"

Aileen smiled in return, handed an apron to Justin and turned to Hugh, "Let Justin know our specials. I'll get started serving." She glanced back at Justin thoughtfully, reaching a decision. "Welcome to the family. You'll find I place great store on family." With that, she gave him a hug, and walked away to take orders.

"I hope you're planning on Sunday dinner," Aiden drawled. "I've been trying to get out of it for years, and I haven't succeeded yet."

Justin smiled back, "It sounds nice. I'll probably be in Pittsburgh this weekend, but maybe next week." Justin left Emmett staring appraisingly at Aiden as he followed Hugh into the kitchen.

"What?" Aiden demanded, obviously unnerved by Emmett's unblinking stare.

Emmett came to himself with a light shake of his head. "The resemblance is uncanny. You and Brian look as alike as two ticks on a hound-dog. The only thing that's different is the attitude." At the exasperated look Aiden sent him, Emmett laughed, "and the attitude isn't all that different. Are you married?" Emmett asked as Aiden moved to get a drink for Aileen's order.

Coming up behind Emmett, Aileen answered the question for her brother, "What, a tomcat Kinney settling down before forty? It can't happen."

"Tomcat?" Emmett asked curiously.

"Aye, the Kinney men are a sorry lot. Born randy and never grow out of it, at least that's what happens to the tall, skinny ones. Himself there," with a nod of the head in her brother's direction, "he'll have at anyone, male or female."

"Why halve the possibilities?" Aiden asked before looking at his sister indignantly, "I'll have you know I've been in mature relationships. They just didn't last very long." The last was said with a wink to Emmett.

"So, tomcat Kinney's never settle down?" Emmett wondered.

"No, they settle down all right, just never before thirty and almost never before forty." Aileen flashed a smile at her brother, "You know we all love you, Aiden, but you've got to admit, you have a powerful itch that needs scratching. And it would take someone pretty remarkable to get you to settle down."

Emmett looked down at the photo of Brian and Justin and started laughing. At the puzzled looks from Aiden and Aileen he simply said, "Brian is definitely a tomcat Kinney. He probably defines the term." Glancing over at Justin as he started clearing a table expertly, Emmett grinned proudly. "Brian met Justin when he was twenty-nine. Justin was seventeen and he wanted Brian. That was six years ago."

"And he got him?" Aileen asked disbelievingly.

"Not easily. It's been Clash of the Titans meets Gone with the Wind around them since they met. Drama queens, both of them." Emmett gave a winsome smile, "Even more than me and that's saying a lot."

"Sounds like it's been interesting," Aileen commented, wanting to hear more.

"Interesting! Sweetie, you don't the half of it." Emmett leaned in and waved his hands, "If you'd asked me six years ago, I would have bet a million dollars that Brian Kinney would never settle down. And look at him now, moving to New York for love." Emmett gave a satisfied sigh as he concluded.

"So you're telling me that's a fairly remarkable young man over there," Aiden asked with a nod in Justin's direction.

"Do not underestimate Justin Taylor," Emmett advised.


	27. Chapter 27 In the News Part 2

**Chapter 27 – In the News Part 2**

Emmett and Marc stood and watched as Justin paced around the back room of the studio of News Now.

Emmett leaned in closer to Marc, "Do you think he'll calm down before the show?"

Marc flashed a grin as Justin ran his hand through his hair yet again. "No. I don't think he's going to calm down until Brian gets here."

Justin jumped as a blonde in a sleek business suit came around the corner. She struggled not to laugh, her brown eyes crinkling at the corners. "Justin," the reporter called out softly, "relax. I'm just going to ask you a few questions, you'll answer – that's all there is to it. We do have a small surprise for you, but I'm sure you'll like it."

Justin shot her a dirty look, "A surprise? That's supposed to help me relax? Thanks a lot, Alicia."

"Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned it. You'll do fine. I watched your earlier press conference and you were brilliant. So relax, we'll be on in about ten minutes." She moved around the corner and back onto the set.

Marc took Justin by the hand and led him to a chair. "Here, why don't you sit down and let me give you a massage to take out some of the tension." He began to massage Justin's temples, lightly. As his hands moved down from the temple to the neck, he began frowning. "God, your right side is tight. I've never felt anything like it." Marc moved both hands to Justin's right side, massaging from the temple, to the neck and down the right arm to Justin's hand.

"Yeah, I've been really tight since the interview with Lieutenant Medina. I can barely draw," Justin sighed as Marc's hands worked their magic. "Now that I know you can do this, I'll be bugging you a lot more. That feels incredible."

"Years as a professional athlete have taught me a thing or two," Marc responded. "It's no problem at all – call anytime."

"I thought it was probably your time spent with all those psychic healers," Emmett commented.

Marc flashed him an easy smile, "That doesn't hurt. But in this case, it's mostly hours of professional massage and chiropractic care after injuries."

Justin's phone vibrated. Picking it up, he glanced at the name, "Hey, Eric, what's up?"

"Professor Lantin needs me to come into the university right away. He sounded pretty anxious. I won't be able to let your friends in."

Justin sighed in resignation, knowing how important the visit with the professor would be. "Don't worry about it. Emmett and I will figure something out." After hanging up, Justin turned to Emmett, "The professor wants to see Eric at the university right away."

Emmett grinned happily, "Good news. He'll hear about the position before the weekend."

"Not such good news, remember Aiden and Aileen?" Justin pointed out.

"They accepted your invitation?"

Justin gave a bright smile as he nodded. "They're dropping by the house to meet Brian. Just a quick visit to start."

"You're not planning to just spring them on Brian, are you?" Emmett's obvious horror at the possibility made Justin chuckle.

"It was tempting, but I wouldn't do that to him," Justin responded. "I told him about meeting them and he made a snide comment about my not being able to keep my nose out of his business. We talked and he agreed to meet them." Justin gave a wicked little grin, "I didn't mention how much he and Aiden look alike, though. They're coming by the house after the interview for a quick hello. Would you mind going and letting them into the house? Eric was supposed to, but he's off to school."

"But your interview…" Emmett started then shrugged his shoulders at Justin's pleading look. "Well, I guess we can't leave them standing on the sidewalk."

"Thanks, Em. I really want this first meeting to go well."

"Well, speak of the devil…" Emmett said, looking at the door where Brian, Lindsay and a very tired looking Gus had just entered, "Or is it speak of the queen in this case," he added with a quick grin at Justin, indicating Brian's mood. "I'll see you back at the house."

As Emmett walked by Brian, he paused to cheerily announce, "Remember, Brian. It takes forty-two muscles to make your face frown and only twenty-two to make a smile. Smiling's easier and doesn't give you wrinkles."

Brian glared at Emmett before responding flatly, "You're right. And it only takes four muscles to deck you. That'd make me smile." He took a single step toward Emmett.

"Whoops!" Emmett laughed as he backed rapidly away, "I'm going to be leaving now. See you all later."

Gus waved good-bye to Emmett and launched himself across the room for a hug from Justin.

"Hi, Gus," Justin looked across the room at Brian as he picked up Gus, took in his harried look and started laughing, "Bad flight, dear?" he asked.

"Next time you book something we all have to fly in for, convince her to fly first class, would you?" Brian shot Lindsay a nasty look. "There's not enough room for Gus in those seats."

Lindsay shook her head, "It was like flying with _two_ babies. I'll take first class next time just to shut you up. And there was plenty of room for Gus, he was fine."

"Gus wasn't really the problem. It was the brat in the seat behind mine who kicked me for three hours."

"If you'd asked his mother politely to stop him instead of threatening to put his head down the toilet, she might have helped you," Lindsay shot back, getting irritated.

Marc broke up the argument by talking to Gus. "Hi, I'm Marc, a friend of your dad's. Did you know I play in the NHL?" At Gus' look of interest, Marc glanced up at Lindsay, "Why don't I take this little guy outside for some road hockey? I noticed a dead end in the back. I've got a couple of kid sticks in my van."

"Thank you, Marc. He's developed a love of hockey, living in Canada," Lindsay said with a heartfelt smile. She'd heard favorable reviews of Marc from several sources. "If he doesn't get to move around before dinner, he's going to be terrible."

"We'll be just outside." Marc took Gus' hand and headed for the door.

Justin was chuckling as he walked over to Brian, pulling his head down for an extremely passionate, distracting kiss. "I'm glad you're here." He glanced over at Lindsay, "You, too."

Brian took a good look at Justin, "Christ, Justin. Have I taught you nothing?" Brian reached out and straightened Justin's hair.

A brunette head came around the corner, "We're ready to start, Mr. Taylor."

Justin gave a deep swallow, looked around and said, "Wish me luck."

Lindsay simply murmured good luck, but Brian shook his head. "You don't need it. You'll be fine. Just remember - humor, sympathy and romance for this audience segment."

Justin flashed Brian a huge smile as he headed around the corner to the stage. Lindsay and Brian followed to watch from the sidelines.

The interview started with some standard introductions, discussion of Justin's show, footage from the aftermath of the bombing. After some questions about the bombing, they showed a newscast discussing Chris Hobbs getting community service after the bashing.

"How do you feel about that verdict after every thing that's happened since," Alicia asked Justin.

"Saddened that people died who didn't need to. Chris Hobbs should have been in jail." Justin smiled softly, "I'm also hopeful that in the future, people who commit acts of violence will be handled more appropriately, regardless of who the victim is. We all know that Hobbs got community service instead of jail time because the judge didn't approve of me. The result of that sentencing strategy is bombs going off in our communities. Violence is violence."

Another newscast was shown discussing the judge's problem with glue and toilet seats, "What did you think about what happened to the judge the following week?"

Justin laughed softly, "I'll admit it – I'm human. I don't wish the judge any harm, but that incident brightened a really bad time in my life. I don't know who did it, but I can assure you that if I did, I wouldn't have turned them in."

Alicia smiled in response, "I mentioned before the show that I had a surprise for you. I understand that you still don't remember the night of the bashing."

"No, I don't. I've lost almost a week out of my life. The doctors aren't sure if I'll ever get it all back. I haven't given up hope, though. About a week ago a few of the memories did come back."

"How did that feel? Getting some of it back."

"Painful, mostly." Justin gave a rueful grin. "The memories were accompanied by one heck of a headache and my wrist is still tight. After I recovered, I was happy to have the memories back."

"Your wrist?"

"It's a residual effect of the bashing. My right hand still has pain and muscle spasms. Remembering seemed to intensity it for a while."

"Well, here's our surprise. A young man in your class, Kurt Benning, contacted our Pittsburgh affiliate after the word got out about Chris Hobbs' arrest. Do you remember him?"

"Sure, nice guy. He always had a camera with him. He was as obsessed with photography and film as I was with art."

"He took some amazing video footage on the night of the prom, which he sold to us. With our equipment we were able to touch it up a bit, dub in the music and come up with something to help give you back a bit of that night."

At Alicia's nod, the lights around the studio dimmed and the large video screen came alive. The music started, a Latin number that sounded vaguely familiar, the video closed in on Daphne and him dancing. Justin smiled softly - they looked like they were having fun.

A moment later, the camera angle changed to show the entry to the ballroom and Brian coming through the doors. As Brian paused, the enhanced picture zoomed in on his face, looking slightly lost in the crowd.

The footage continued but Justin began to find it hard to focus on the picture. His mind overlaid the images with new ones, at slightly different angles, the music offset just a bit. As the images showed Brian reaching Daphne and Justin, Justin started to hear a conversation only shown but not heard on the video he was watching.

His own voice, gently teasing, _"I thought you said you wouldn't be caught dead in a room full of eighteen years olds."_

Brian's voice, "_I thought I'd recapture my lost youth."_ Brian leaning down to give Daphne a light kiss, _"You look hot, Daphne. I'd fuck you."_

Daphne, a bit flustered, but rising to the challenge, _"You, too, Brian."_

"_Do you mind if I borrow your date?"_ Justin could see Daphne shaking her head on the screen. Then he could feel her touch on his arm. His head was starting to ache. Reaching his hand up to his throbbing temple, Justin continued to watch as he and Brian cut through the crowd.

Brian's smiling face overlay the image of the back of his head on the television screen as they stood at the front of the stage. The sound of The Drifters filled his ears. Justin saw Brian's mischievous grin, daring Justin to join in the fun. Just before they started to move, he saw Brian's lips move, mouthing the words _"I love you"_.

The studio faded from Justin's vision as his mind shifted fully into the past - reliving the emotions and movement of the night five years earlier. As the music filled his ears, Justin could feel his body swaying, see Brian's face filling his vision, feel the echoes of the love he knew Brian shared with him. For just a moment, Chris Hobbs' hate-filled visage filled his mind before it shifted back to Brian. He could feel himself turning his way across the dance floor. He could feel Brian lifting him, spinning him and then he felt Brian's kiss - one of the best ever. He followed Brian from the ballroom to the parking lot, talking and laughing, wishing they could leave, knowing he couldn't strand Daphne at the prom. Justin kissed Brian goodnight, promising to meet him later. As he walked away, the happiest he had ever been, he heard Brian's voice scream his name. Turning, he saw the flash as a bat descended and everything went black.

On stage, a smiling Alicia turned to Justin as the footage stopping as Brian led Justin off the dance floor. "Well, Justin, what did you think of our surprise? Bring back any memories?" Getting no response from Justin as he stared at things she couldn't see, she tried to get his attention, "Justin. Is everything okay?"

Justin's eyes rolled up in his head as he slid, boneless to the ground.

"Justin!" Brian yelled as he ran across the floor to his lover. Collapsing to the ground beside Justin, Brian picked him up and gently put Justin's head on his lap. "Christ, not again!"

Lindsay rushed over and knelt beside Brian, her hand on his shoulder.

Alicia looked up at the people standing stunned around the scene, "Call 911. We need to get him to a hospital."

"No." Justin's weak voice was the most beautiful thing Brian had ever heard. "No hospitals. I hate them."

"Like I give a fuck," Brian muttered. "You're going."

"Brian!" Justin's voice got stronger, "I'm okay. I'm not going to the hospital." Looking Brian in the eye, a firm, "Let me up," garnered Justin a couple of swear words accompanied by a helping hand as he and Brian got up.

"Justin, are you sure you're okay?" Lindsay moved with Justin as he sat back down, Brian hovering over him. "You're pale as a ghost."

"My head feels like it just got hit with a baseball bat, but other than that – I'm okay." Justin attempted a smile, gingerly holding his head, wincing with every movement. "Anybody got an aspirin?"

One of the assistants, a petite, slightly chubby brunette in her early twenties, reached into a monstrous purple handbag and pulled out a bottle. "Here, I've got some Tylenol."

Justin grimaced as he refused, "Thanks, but I'm allergic. It'll have to be aspirin."

The young lady tilted her head slightly, "But nobody's allergic to Tylenol. It's what they give you when you're allergic to everything else."

Brian chuckled softly as Justin gave him a rueful grin. Brian responded, "He is allergic to everything else. Codeine's the worst, right, Sunshine?" Brian looked at Alicia and quipped, "We keep that on the top shelf."

Justin winced, not sure which was worse, the pounding in his head, the use of the nickname on air or the repeat of the old joke. He decided to get a bit of his own back. "We gave them a prom they'll never forget, didn't we?"

Brian paled as he heard words he'd forgotten ever saying, words he knew he'd never repeated. "You remember." Brian held himself perfectly still, "You remember the prom."

Justin got up, walked a few steps to Brian and put a hand on his partner's shoulder, looking into his eyes. "Yeah, I remember the prom."

Brian's eyes closed for a moment, shielding himself against the emotion in Justin's eyes. After a moment, he pulled Justin into a tight embrace, "And you're okay?"

Justin's slightly muffled voice came through the Armani overcoat, "I'm okay." He leaned back and looked Brian in the eye, "But you've got some explaining to do. Why did it take five years to say it again?"

"I…" Brian swallowed, staring into Justin's patient blue eyes, at a loss for words.

Justin shook his head at Brian's inability to respond. He already knew why. He decided to let Brian off the hook for now. "We'll talk later."

"Is that a threat?" Brian quipped, relieved.

"A promise." Justin moved into Brian's arms, holding him for all he was worth.

Alicia allowed the moment to go on for a bit before clearing her throat, "Guys. You do remember you're live?"

Justin gave a slight laugh, his headache already fading away, as he pulled away from Brian. Brian stepped back, unaware that the producer was keeping a camera on him. For a brief moment, naked emotion swirled in his eyes as he looked at Justin. Justin held Brian's gaze as he went back to his chair beside Alicia. He flashed a brilliant smile, "I have to say, that definitely caught me by surprise."

"I'm sorry," she said. "If we'd known the effect that video would have on you, we would never have just dumped it on you like that."

"I'm not sorry," Justin grinned happily. "The headache's already fading, I've got my memory back and my hand doesn't …" Justin stopped, stunned as he stared down at his right hand in wonder.

"Justin!" Brian interjected sharply, "What's wrong?"

Justin tilted his head to the side and moved his right hand in front of his face, flexing it experimentally. "Nothing." He looked at Brian in shock. "My hand doesn't hurt."

"At all?" Brian stared at Justin's hand. Justin's hand always hurt, at best a residual ache when he flexed it, at worst, cramps that wouldn't allow him to function. Although he could paint and sketch in fine detail, most of his work was abstract to avoid the pain that accompanied detailed work.

"Oh, my God," Lindsay said as she took off behind the set.

Alicia's question of "What's happening?" didn't get answered as Lindsay came back around the corner, Justin's sketchbook and pencils in hand.

Justin took them, swallowing hard, just staring at the pad.

"There's only one way to find out, Justin," Brian said softly.

Lindsay nodded her agreement, "Try it and see."

Silence reigned on the set as Justin flipped open the sketchbook, the crew understanding that something momentous was happening without having a clue as to what that was.

Justin glanced briefly up at Brian's face then started to sketch. Within minutes, a detailed sketch of Brian's face appeared on the sketchpad. Justin started to smile. As she watched, tears began to leak down Lindsay's face and she began to smile. Brian's eyes took on the sheen of unshed tears. As he finished the quick sketch, Justin looked up into Brian's eyes as he stood in front of him.

"Well," Brian asked, "What's the verdict?"

"It didn't hurt at all." Justin's voice cracked, "It felt like it used to." Justin started to laugh, his delight producing contagious smiles throughout the room. "I drew that without any pain."

Brian burst out laughing, grabbed Justin out of the chair, the sketchpad flying away, quickly forgotten. Brian's mouth descended and Justin felt the studio fade away again as he gave himself up into the kiss.


	28. Chapter 28 Family Part 2

**Chapter 28 – Family Part 2**

Justin, Lindsay, Brian and Gus rode in the back of the limousine Brian had hired for the evening. Gus appeared to have recovered his spirits, thanks to the game of road hockey with Marc. The three adults listened as he chattered about his new moves.

Brian shook his head in amazement, looking at Lindsay, "When did hockey become his sport?"

"Since he started school in Toronto. Half the kids showed up for the first day of school in hockey jerseys. They play road hockey in the parks and trade hockey cards incessantly," she said with a smile. "I think it's a Canadian thing."

Justin laughed, "It's a good thing we have a friend who's a pro hockey player then."

"Why were you pretending to date him?" Lindsay asked curiously. At Justin's surprised look, she explained, "Debbie told me all about it when we visited last week."

"He needed to make a point to John, his boyfriend." Justin just shook his head, "Things got away from him. I imagine any point he was trying to make got lost in the announcement that Chris Hobbs was arrested for the bombing."

"How are you feeling about that?" Lindsay asked softly.

"Better than I was when I first heard. Once I got over the shock, I decided to go with the simplest explanation. Hobbs is insane and it's not my fault."

"Forget fucking Hobbs. Why didn't you wait to meet these new family members?" Brian demanded.

Lindsay and Justin shared a glance that said worlds about their need to protect Brian from homophobic relatives. Justin simply smiled at Brian, "Em and I were curious and you were in Pittsburgh. We went to check them out. It's no big deal. I think you'll like them."

"We'll see."

Justin grinned at his partner's typical non-committal response as the limo pulled up to the townhouse. Knowing that Brian was still recovering from the shock of seeing him on the floor, Justin worked to give him a few minutes alone. "Why don't you take your suitcase up to my room? I can help Lindsay get Gus a snack to tide him over until dinner."

When the driver opened the trunk of the car, Brian grabbed his suitcase and, following orders, headed upstairs. Lindsay, Gus and Justin headed towards the house when Lindsay paused to say, "Justin, why don't you go talk to Brian? Gus and I want to stretch our legs for a bit. We'll join you in a minute."

Justin nodded, grateful for the time. "See you in a minute, Gus."

"Justin," Lindsay called out to Justin as he moved toward the house. "Don't be too long. Maybe fifteen minutes?" At Justin's laughing nod, Lindsay and Gus headed back to the car to get a small toy bag.

* * *

Justin walked into his bedroom just in time to see Brian lean back and rub his neck. "Here, why don't you let me help with that?" Justin led Brian over to sit on the bed and knelt behind him, gently kneading the tension away. "Reliving the prom – just how you wanted to spend the afternoon."

Brian's eyes closed briefly as he leaned back into Justin. "How's your headache?"

"It cleared up when you kissed me."

Brian smiled slightly, "Happy to help. Where are Lindsay and Gus?"

"Playing outside for fifteen minutes."

As Justin felt some of the tension leave Brian's shoulders, he slid around to sit on Brian's lap on the bed facing him. Watching Brian's expression change to one of wariness, Justin chuckled softly. Brian definitely did not want to talk about the prom. He'd have to get this over with as painlessly as possible. Ignoring it wasn't an option.

"It seems surreal. A moment so implausible that I can't tell fact from fiction," Justin said. "I still can't believe you said I love you that night. It was a little out of character."

"A little?" Brian gave a short laugh. "_I _still can't believe I said it – that the words came out of my mouth. The whole day seemed unreal to me, too. It was so fucking strange."

"How so?"

Brian shifted restlessly. "Let me up." Justin obligingly stood, giving Brian the space he needed to keep talking. Brian got up and looked out of the bedroom window at Gus playing for a moment before continuing. "I wasn't going to go to the prom. Lindsay tried to talk me into going after that little episode where you guys gave me a coffin for my birthday."

"It beat what you gave me for my birthday that year." Brian shot him a sardonic glance, making Justin laugh. "So Lindsay talked you into going?"

"No, Lindsay talked me into trying scarfing. She was so eloquent discussing the wonders of aging I decided to die young."

Justin pulled up in shock. "You're joking, right." At Brian's negative shake of the head, Justin exploded, "Christ, Brian, do you know how dangerous that is?"

"Like I said, it was a strange day."

"Do you still do it?" At Brian's blank look, Justin became angry. "Brian, answer the fucking question – are you still trying scarfing for fun?"

"No. It was a one-shot deal." Brian couldn't meet Justin's eyes. "Mikey saved me, called me pathetic. I decided he was right. Nothing like almost dying to cure you of wanting to die."

"You wanted to die?"

"I don't know what the fuck I wanted. I was thirty, my friends gave me a coffin, I didn't get the New York job, Mikey was leaving, Lindsay was talking about getting old like it was a good thing and then there was you."

"What about me?"

"You dazzled, Justin." Brian turned from the window, looking into Justin's eyes across the room. "You were so willing to take chances, to stand up for what you believed. At eighteen, I could already see the man you were becoming - the man you are now. I could tell you were going to be fucking amazing." He sighed deeply, turning back to the window. "I decided to make one goddamned thing on my birthday go right, so I went to your prom."

Justin walked to where Brian stood, clearing his throat softly to shake away the tears that had gathered. "You did make it go right. It was amazing."

Brian looked out the window, eyes glistening with unshed tears, "It got away from me. I wanted to be romantic – just once, and I got carried away. I said the words." Brian's eyes closed to shield him from the emotions. "It was perfect and then, suddenly, it wasn't… and there as blood and sirens and…"

Justin simply walked up and hugged Brian to reassure him, letting his touch remind the older man that they had survived. Brian's arms pulled Justin in tightly, his head buried in the blond hair. "I'm here. We're here," Justin murmured.

Justin knew Brian couldn't take much more, so he smiled softly and pulled back to tackle the last topic needed to finish the conversation. "So are we over the whole saying _I love you_ will get Justin killed phobia?"

Brian's face shut down as he attempted to avoid the subject, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"The first time you said it, I got bashed in the head. It took a bomb going off to get you to say it again. At least I finally understand why it's so hard for you to say." Justin started laughing, "I guess the fact that you've said it twice since without tragedy means that we're over that, right?"

Brian stared for a moment then gave a slight nod, not admitting anything out loud about irrational fears. "It still isn't easy to say."

"That's okay, I hear it even when you don't say it out loud." At Brian's snort of laughter, Justin grinned. Brian leaned over and started to kiss Justin when Justin suddenly pulled back with a smile. "Can we let go of all the worries about the prom now?"

"Now what are you talking about?" Brian's exasperated glare widened Justin's grin.

"Can we start ballroom dancing again?" Justin asked. "We were so good at it, and I miss dancing around the loft with you."

"If you want," Brian gave a light shrug, pretending indifference before smirking slightly. "We were good, weren't we?"

"We were amazing." Justin started laughing, "I can't wait until all the guys see that video. Michael is going to want to know how we learned to dance like that."

"Mikey can just wonder," Brian smirked and pulled Justin into a dance, spinning Justin around before falling back on the bed and pulling Justin with him.

"We've only got ten minutes," Justin warned, laughing, feeling Brian's hard-on as he lay on top of him.

Brian rolled over, pinning Justin to the bed. "Plenty of time for what I have in mind." Brian leaned in, devouring Justin's mouth before suddenly yanking Justin's pants down. Opening his own quickly, he reached into the pocket.

Justin looked up to see Brian pull out lube and condom. "Just like a boy scout, always prepared."

Brian looked down, saluted him with three lube covered fingers. "It's a good motto. Prepare yourself to be prepared," he smiled at the look of pleasure on Justin's face as he went to work with the lube, his other hand stroking Justin.

"Brian," Justin gasped, "fuck me now."

"Whatever you want." Brian went in fast and hard, pumping rhythmically to the sound of Justin's gasps of delight, losing the pain of the day in pleasure. Within minutes, Brian threw back his head, giving a small scream of pleasure as he felt Justin clench around him, coming within moments of each other.

"Jesus, Brian," Justin gasped as Brian collapsed on top of him. "I think we just set a speed record."

"Told you we had plenty of time," Brian breathed heavily as he recovered. "I missed you."

"I noticed," came the laughing response from below him.

* * *

After fifteen minutes spent throwing a ball around, Gus pleaded exhaustion and held up his arms. Lindsay smiled slightly, threw the bag over her shoulder, picked up the growing boy and headed into the house, following the voices to the living room. As she entered, she saw Brian speaking to a red-haired woman, most likely Ari – Justin's roommate. Emmett came dancing out of the kitchen, "Emmett, it's good to see you." Emmett immediately rushed over for a hug. Lindsay held up a hand to stop him. "Wait, Em. Where's the bathroom?"

Emmett gestured dramatically with his hands as he moved back to the kitchen, "Just follow me, Linds."

"Here, Brian, take Gus." Lindsay handed Gus over. Gus promptly snuggled into his usual spot, burying his face in the neck of the adult holding him.

"Wait, I'm not –"

"Can't wait. I'll be right back." She hurried into the kitchen. "Emmett, could you fix Gus a snack?" she asked as she moved past him.

"No problem, sweetie. I love feeding the little guy."

Gus suddenly noticed that something didn't feel right. He raised his head to look into vibrant green eyes. "Who are you? You're not my dad."

"No, I'm not, lad. My name's Aiden, I'm your Da's cousin. Your cousin, too. You'd be Gus, right?"

At Gus' nod, Aiden gave an easy laugh that sounded nothing Brian's.

"You look like Dad."

"So do you."

Gus thought about that for a moment before giving a wiggle. Aiden set him down and grinned when Gus held out a hand to shake. "Pleased to meet you, sir."

Aiden solemnly shook Gus' hand. "Just call me Aiden, Gus." He nodded off to the side, "That's your cousin, Aileen. She has a couple of kids your age for you to play with." Gus looked into the woman's kind eyes as she smiled hello.

Gus started to hold his hand out when she interjected, "I prefer hugs." Gus stared at her for moment, considering. He suddenly nodded, walked over and gave her the requested hug before moving over the couch to stare at Aiden.

"Why do you talk funny?" Gus asked.

"Well, we're originally from -", Aiden broke off as a couple entered the front of the house, arguing.

"Eric, why are you doing this?" Ari's voice carried through to the living room. "Brian is Justin's."

"I haven't been able to focus on my thesis since Justin told me about the deal they made."

"I know about that. I was there, remember. It doesn't mean you have to-"

"Yes, it does," Eric cut her off. "Until that kiss is over with, I won't be able to concentrate. They're only here one night. I can't wait until Brian's back again. I have to finish my thesis, so I can start my new job. I need to redesign that engine."

As they rounded the corner into the living room, Eric caught sight of Aiden, "Good. You're here." Eric strode across the room to stand immediately before Aiden. "Let's get this over with."

Aiden stared in shock at the beautiful young man in front of him, looking into the determined amber eyes. "I'd be happy to help you with anything you want."

"Excellent." Eric reached out and pulled Aiden in for a light kiss. Aiden immediately wrapped his arms around Eric, pulling him in and deepening the kiss.

"Sweet Jesus," Aileen muttered. "Here we go again."

"Okay, that's enough," Ari reached over, pulled Eric out of Aiden's embrace, putting herself between them. She reached out and put a hand on Aiden's chest to hold him back as he started to follow Eric, who was standing, stunned, staring at Aiden. Ari's breath caught as she felt the rippled muscles under Aiden's shirt.

"Well, now. Jealous, are you?" Aiden teased with a smile, sensing her interest. "Did you want to keep me yourself?"

Ari shook her head to clear it, holding one hand on each man's chest. "You egotistical jerk. Why would you think this was about you?"

"Good for you," Aileen cheered softly.

"It usually is. Besides, he kissed me," Aiden responded, tongue in cheek, as Aileen rolled her eyes at his response.

"Only because of that stupid deal!" Ari announced, frustrated. "Listen. You may be drop-dead gorgeous, but that doesn't mean you get to go around kissing any guy you want. No matter what deal you and Justin made. Hands off Eric!"

"You Eric?" At Eric's nod, Aiden smirked, "Pleased to meet you, Eric."

"Huh?"

Aiden flashed a sympathetic grin before he glanced back at Ari. "Whether we keep kissing will up to Eric, not you." He quirked a brow upwards, "Drop-dead gorgeous, huh?"

Ari let out a small scream of frustration.

Aiden stared into the hauntingly beautiful face in front of him, considering his options. "What about kissing any girl I want?"

"What?" Ari demanded, flabbergasted.

"You know, love. It seems I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't here," Aiden started to grin. "So I might as well be damned for doing." Staring into Ari's eyes, Aiden slowly lowered his head and began kissing her.

"Hey!" yelled Eric, coming out of the trance caused by Aiden's kiss. "What the hell? You're gay! Hands off Ari!"

Lindsay came around corner of the kitchen, stopping in shock at the sight of Aiden kissing Ari. "Brian! What are you doing?"

Justin and Brian turned into the living room. "What the fuck?" Brian asked.

As Aiden lifted his head, Ari stared in wonder, reaching her hand up to her lips. "Did you like that, love?" Aiden asked smugly. Ari's face immediately hardened, her hand pulling back into a small fist as she punched Aiden in the stomach. Aiden doubled over, gasping for breath, laughing. Eric reached out, grabbed Ari and pulled her back before she could swing again.

Emmett cheered Ari on from where he stood behind a stunned Lindsay, "You go girl."

Aileen groaned out load, "Tomcat Kinney's. Can't live with 'em and it's just too bloody interesting to live without 'em."

"Hey, Daddy," Gus jumped up and ran through the room to his father, excited at his news. As Brian picked him up, he made his announcement, "That's our new cousins." The little boy smiled brightly at the stunned adults as he continued, "Aileen likes to hug. Aiden likes to kiss."

Brian stared in shock at his cousins. He looked over at Justin who was fighting off laughter, eyes tearing. "I don't know how, but somehow I know this farce is all your fault."

Justin lost it, howling with laughter as he collapsed against the wall, sliding down it helplessly.

Aiden managed to straighten up slightly, offering Brian a quirky grin, "Hello, Brian. It's good to meet you."

Brian looked into a face enough like his own it felt like gazing in a mirror. "Fuck."

Ari and Eric froze, staring in silence from Brian to Aiden. Eric gently set Ari down before speaking. "There's two of you." Eric spent a long minute looking from Justin to Ari to Brian to Aiden before moaning, "God help me. I'm never going to redesign that engine."


	29. Chapter 29 Aunt Tilda

**Chapter 29 – Aunt Tilda**

"Gus," Lindsay said from where she sat with Brian across from Justin and Gus, "You need to calm down a little bit."

"I like riding in limousines, Mom. It's fun!" Gus hit another button and laughed with delight when it lowered a television from the ceiling of the car.

"Guess he does take after you, after all," Justin grinned at Brian. Justin grabbed the remote and found Power Rangers for Gus. Gus settled down to watch. "We should introduce him to designer kids' clothes next."

"Don't you dare, Justin," Lindsay interjected, groaning. "I can't afford all this."

"Yes, you can," Brian said firmly. "I'm not going to hire a New York cab to move the four of us around."

"It was nice of Aileen to invite Gus and me to stay this week while we're house-hunting. That should save me a bundle. I think we'll shift over tomorrow though. I don't want to arrive late and tired."

"I'm hoping you'll be house-fixing instead of house-hunting," Justin quipped. He glanced slyly at Brian, "What did you think of your cousins?"

"They're okay," Brian shrugged. "I guess we can show up for that Sunday dinner thing."

"Aileen seems quite determined that we all show up," Lindsay agreed. "It'll be nice for Gus to have cousins his own age to play with. I'm not sure what to make of Aiden, yet. That scene with Eric…"

Brian sobered, "A bisexual me, Linds? I would have thought you'd be all over that."

Lindsay shuddered slightly, "He may look like you, Brian, but he's not you. No history. It'd feel like…" she paused for a moment, "I don't know how to explain it, but it'd just feel wrong."

Brian smirked, "He seems okay, though."

"Don't get me wrong. I think I'll like him, although that scene with Ari and Eric was any indication, he's got the morals of an alley-cat."

Justin grinned, "It's tomcat, apparently. Family legend has it that the tall, skinny Kinney's are very sexually active until they finally settle down. Then they're faithful to a fault." At Brian's rolled eyes, Justin started laughing, thinking back to the scene in the living room. "It wasn't really Aiden's fault. Eric kissed him, thinking he was Brian."

"Why would Eric do that?" Lindsay demanded, glaring at Brian.

"What? It's all his fault," Brian said, pointing at Justin. "He started it."

"I was just doing him a favor. You're the one who insisted on kissing him, too."

Brian snorted in response then grinned. "From the look on Eric's face when he and Ari left the living room, he's decided he's not feeling too gay today."

"It seemed to bother Aiden a bit when they took off." Justin grinned, mischief in his eyes. "We've got to take him to Babylon. I wonder if he can dance? We know that skill isn't genetic."

"I dance well enough to get what I want." Brian smiled broadly, "I can just see everyone's faces when two of me walk in."

Lindsay grinned in agreement, "I want to be in the diner when Debbie meets Aiden for the first time. There's got to be a good way to set that up. If he wore sunglasses, you couldn't tell the difference."

The three of them continued to plan until the limousine pulled up in front of the Wiltshire.

"Are you sure about the church, Justin?" Lindsay asked.

"Positive." Justin grinned, "Let's go meet Aunt Tilda Avery and convince her we're wonderful."

As they entered the restaurant on the top floor of the Wiltshire, Justin spotted Miranda Avery sitting by herself at a table with a spectacular view of the harbor. Miranda waved them over with a smile. "Aunt Tilda called. She's running a bit late but should be here soon."

After introducing his family to the realtor, Justin commented, "I'm glad to have a friendly face for the inquisition. Any advice?"

"Be polite but be yourselves. Aunt Tilda hasn't held on to her billions by being stupid. She can see through any lie." Miranda grinned, "Half the Avery's love her, like me. Half hate her because she doesn't let them get away with anything. That half are just waiting for her to die so they can inherit it all."

"What does John think of her?" Brian asked, watching as Lindsay got out some drawing paper and crayons for Gus to occupy him until the meal came.

"The two of them get along great," Miranda responded. "The family grapevine told me that she called him last week, demanding to meet Marc – wanted to know why John was hiding him."

Justin grinned, "Marc will be relieved if John introduces him. John's attitude was starting to bug him."

"Don't worry, she'll meet Marc. What Aunt Tilda wants, Aunt Tilda gets." Miranda's face turned serious, "She'll have checked you out. She'll know everything about the four of you, your family histories, your financial situation, Gus' grades on his kindergarten report card. Don't lie to her. Refusing to answer is okay. Telling her to mind her own business is okay, but don't lie." Miranda's face lit up, "There she is."

They all turned to look at the entrance to the restaurant. A tall, regal woman with short, strawberry blond hair stood looking around. She was dressed in a designer pant-suit with a long white scarf dangling between the jacket lapels. Perfect makeup on an ageless face gave the impression of a woman in control of her life, as well as beautiful in her youth. As she walked towards the table, her hands gave away her real age. Cosmetic surgery hadn't touched them as it had her face and although the fingers were slim and graceful, the aging spots and wrinkles belonged to a woman in her seventies.

Both Justin and Brian stood as she arrived at the table. A moment later Gus stood, too, following his father's lead when his mother gave a nod in his direction. Brian politely pulled out a chair for the older woman, executing proper behavior flawlessly.

Tilda Avery gave a regal nod with a slight smile as she sat down. "Aren't you a well-mannered group?" she murmured. "I wouldn't have expected it of you, Brian, given your reputation." Tilda gave no pretense of needing introductions. It was obvious she knew who everyone was.

"I know how to behave myself when I choose to," Brian responded politely.

"And why do you so choose today?"

Brian leaned back in his chair, considering the woman in front of him before responding frankly. "Justin wants the church."

"And you'd like him to have it." Tilda smiled, "And if Justin didn't want the church, would you be a little less polite?"

"No, I'd still make nice," Brian responded easily. "You're the majority shareholder of three fortune five hundred companies based in New York and own a significant minority in several others. I'm moving my advertising agency to New York." Brian smirked slightly, deciding to be frank, "I'd be polite even if it made my…" Brian paused, clearing his throat at Justin's warning glare, "teeth ache."

Tilda threw back her head and gave a hearty laugh, "I'm starting to see why John likes you so much. He called to plead your case."

Justin relaxed slightly as he watched the interchange. The most likely thing to throw off this meeting would be Brian and Tilda not getting along. Lindsay and he could be polite regardless of the behavior of the other party, but Brian had an extremely low tolerance for bullshit. He smiled at Brian, grateful his partner had decided to work for the church.

Tilda caught the smile and gave a small chuckle, "You weren't at all sure how Brian and I would get along, were you, Justin?"

"No, ma'am," Justin answered. "Being with Brian has taught me to expect the unexpected. I like that, but it does make evenings like tonight a bit unpredictable." Justin's rueful glance caused Brian to smirk slightly while Lindsay coughed to disguise a chuckle.

Tilda turned her attention to Gus. Her voice softened considerably as she asked, "Can I see what you're drawing, Gus?" Gus looked up, deciding. When Lindsay started to intervene, Tilda simply shook her head at Lindsay. "Only if you want to, Gus."

Gus paused for a moment then decided. He turned the picture around to show a swirling pattern he had drawn on the page. In each of the segments that made up the pattern he was using different colored crayons but was allowing the colors to bleed into the adjoining sections. The background around the central pattern was mottled when Gus had taken the paper and laid it on top of the patterned tablecloth before coloring it in a wide variety of shades.

Tilda's eyes widened slightly at the quality of workmanship, "That's very good, Gus. Are you going to be an artist when you grow up?"

Gus shook his head, wrinkling his nose at the thought, "I'm going to be a hockey player."

Tilda smiled in response, "Also an excellent choice." She looked up at Lindsay, "You must be very proud."

Lindsay gave Gus a small hug as he went back to work on his picture, "I am."

"Are the two of you definitely moving to New York?" Tilda asked bluntly, causing both Brian and Justin to freeze, waiting for the answer.

"Yes, we are," Lindsay replied firmly. She smiled down at Gus. "We need to make a major change for several reasons."

"Can I ask what those are?" Tilda inquired.

Lindsay smiled back politely, "They're personal reasons."

"I understand," Tilda demurred graciously, seeming satisfied with the non-informative response as the waiter arrived with their drinks and appetizers. Tilda tilted her head with a smile in Lindsay's direction, "And how do you feel about taking up residence next door to two such serious young men as these," she nodded towards Justin and Brian.

"I'm not sure I follow," Lindsay queried. "Serious young men?"

Tilda chuckled, "It's a euphemism from my grandfather's youth which has stuck in my mind all these years. It refers to young men who prefer not to attend come-out balls, don't really enjoy dancing with young ladies and in general, enjoy the company of other young men."

Lindsay smiled, relaxing, "Given that definition Brian and Justin are very serious. I feel great about setting up house next door - they're family." Lindsay quirked a brow, "Is there a similar phrase for women who prefer the company of other women from that time?"

"Yes, but you won't like it," Tilda responded with a laugh - "spinsters." Lindsay joined her laughter and the atmosphere lightened as the waiter's arrived with dinner. The food was delicious, the company excellent and the conversation ranged widely with a central focus on modern art.

As the desserts were brought out, Tilda started to explain her attachment to the church. "When I was growing up in the thirties and forties, the one constant in my life was my grandfather, Julian Breen. My grandmother had died just after I was born and my mother wasn't very stable. She had a lot of trouble with addictions and a wide variety of not very nice men." Miranda's wide-eyed glance indicated that even within the Avery's the story of Tilda's upbringing wasn't widely known.

"Grandpa and I lived in the house beside the church. The church had long since closed for business, but he couldn't bear to part with the building he and grandmother had been so happy in. He still painted in the loft. He was in his sixties, but he had all the time in the world for me. He tried to turn me into an artist, but unlike Gus here, I simply had no talent." Tilda chuckled slightly, "In the end I took after my grandmother the most. She was a hardheaded businesswoman with amazing commercial sense. Money was never a problem for Grandpa or me."

Tilda paused, sighing reflectively as she stirred her coffee while watching Gus devour his chocolate cake. "I want to see the church used again. Preferably to make wonderful art. The church has stood idle for far too long, but, like Grandpa, I couldn't bring myself to sell it. I was always worried that my grandfather's art might be destroyed if I left it in the hands of strangers. I am, however, getting older and possibly wiser. Boarding up the church and keeping everyone out is no longer sufficient tribute to my grandfather. It's not what he would want." Tilda gazed over at Justin, "I went by your show."

Justin froze at the abrupt change of subject, "What did you think?"

"You are remarkably talented. With Jared Bannerman as your agent, I have no doubt you will achieve the commercial success my grandfather never did." Tilda smiled in response to Justin's blindingly bright smile. She gave Matilda a small nod.

Matilda reached down and took out a large file folder from the briefcase she had brought with her to the restaurant. "Here is the transfer of ownership of the church and all property associated with it. It does need significant renovation to be modernized but that shouldn't be a problem. The only stipulation is due to the church being an historic site. The artwork cannot be touched. The apartment and the house can be remodeled any way you'd like as can the main church building."

"I can't imagine anyone wanting to destroy the paintings – they're incredible," Justin responded.

She looked at Brian and Lindsay, "There's only one question left. Are you two willing to take the property sight unseen? You know you'll have to use it for Kinnetics, Brian, if you take it. Selling it immediately after I sell it to you would not be a good business move. You can back out now with no hard feelings."

Lindsay spoke up first. "I'm sure the house will be fine for Gus and me."

Brian sat, staring at Tilda, lost in thought. She wanted proof that he trusted Justin. He pondered the levels of trust possible in a relationship. He suddenly grinned and started to laugh, looking at Justin. "You're sure, right? I've already told you what'll happen if I hate the place."

Justin started laughing with Brian, remembering the threat to take it out of his ass for the next thirty years. "I'm sure."

Brian turned back to Tilda, who was smiling in response to the laughter. "Assuming we can afford your price, we'll take it."

"You can afford my price," Tilda assured him. "Before he died, my grandfather told me about his youth, how difficult it was for people to understand that his and my grandmother's marriage was a true partnership. I believe he sometimes felt like a kept man because he didn't earn a lot with his art. My grandmother supported the household." Tilda face softened as she remembered her grandfather. "That has massively influenced how I wish to handle the situation today."

Turning to Justin, she continued. "I understand that you and Brian have entered into a partnership sharing all assets." At Lindsay's gasp, Tilda raised a brow, "I take it that very few people are aware of that. It was a very wise move on your part, Brian." Brian simply nodded his head. "It is fine with me if you immediately transfer the church into that partnership, however, the initial sale is to you, Justin."

Tilda took a deep breath as she made the final decision. "Justin, do you have a dollar on you?"

Justin looked startled, "No. I don't have any cash with me at all."

Gus looked up from his chocolate cake with a smile as he dug around in his pocket. "Here you go, Justin. You can pay me back later." Gus handed over a slightly chocolate stained one dollar bill.

Tilda gave a light chuckle, "How wonderfully appropriate." She took the dollar from Justin while taking out a pen. "I assure you that the documents are in order," she stated emphatically as she signed her name. She then handed the pen to Justin and pointed to a signature box on the form.

"You're selling it to us for a dollar?" Justin asked disbelievingly.

"No. I'm selling it to _you _for a dollar. I am obscenely wealthy, Justin. The church's monetary value is nothing to me. Its' sentimental value is mammoth. I want you to have the church. I want you to make wonderful art in my grandfather's loft. Brian and Lindsay are delightful people, I have no doubt. But I would not give them the church."

Tilda paused for a moment, before continuing in a more personal vein. "I want you to understand, on every level, that you and Brian are partners. I know you are, but as things stand now, he'll always be more financially successful. That's not a bad thing, but it might wear on you over time as it did my grandfather. If anyone asks what you bring to the partnership, you'll now have an answer that the world will accept. You've brought a property valued in excess of ten million dollars to be used as the New York office of Kinnetics."

Tilda smiled slightly as Justin simply stared at her in disbelief. "Sign, Justin." Justin took a deep breath, picked up the pen with hands that only shook slightly and signed his name.

"Gus," Tilda said. Gus looked up with a smile. "I hope to see you again soon. You may call me Aunt Tilda, just like your mother and fathers."

Gus nodded happily. He liked the older woman, "Okay, Aunt Tilda."

"It was a pleasure meeting you all." As Aunt Tilda reached for her purse, both Justin and Brian stood, Brian helping her with her chair. Gus, seeing the men at the table standing again, promptly slid back his chair to stand with them.

Aunt Tilda reached into her pocket and handed two cards to Brian as well as a large key. "The first is for a general contractor to help you with the renovations. Good contractors are notoriously difficult to find in New York. He's expecting your call. The second is for an architect for any renovations. The third is for one of my firms. We're looking for a new advertising agency. No guarantee as the final decision rests with my CEO, but Kinnetics is on the list of candidates." Aunt Tilda flashed a mischievous smile, "Welcome to New York."

"Thank you," Brian said sincerely, looking at the cards and the key. "For everything."

"You're very welcome." Aunt Tilda paused as she started to leave. "I had the lights and heat turned on in the church yesterday, if you want to go check it out. The equipment needs to be modernized, but it does function."

As Tilda left the restaurant, the small group sat in silence for a moment, absorbing the impact of the evening's events.

"What the hell just happened?" Brian demanded. "Is she always like that?"

Miranda started laughing, "It's easy, Brian. Aunt Tilda liked you. That's all that happened. Good things happen to people she likes." Miranda raised her glass, "To the sale of the Church of Angels – finally."

After everyone joined the toast, Justin asked, "What kind of commission are you going to get on a one dollar sale?"

Miranda looked stunned for a moment then groaned out loud. "I can't believe this. I've worked on that sale for years." After a moment of listening to the others laugh, she shrugged philosophically, "It's not like I wouldn't have done it for Aunt Tilda for free anyway. It would have just been nice to be asked."

Justin turned to Brian and Lindsay, "You want to go see it now?"

"We'll have to wait, Justin," Lindsay said, nodding at Gus. "It's getting awfully late. Maybe Aiden and Aileen can go with me to check it out tomorrow while you fly back to Pittsburgh."

Brian suddenly got up and pulled up Justin for quick kiss, "Let's go check out the whorehouse."

Taking Brian's hand, Justin waved good-bye to the women and Gus. "Great idea. I want to show you every room."


	30. Chapter 30 Insanity

**Chapter 30 – Insanity**

Brian pulled the door of the loft open while kissing Justin into oblivion. Years of practice at manipulating the sliding door and assorted men at the same time made the movement oddly graceful.

"We've only got an hour before we have to be at the police station," Justin murmured as Brian's mouth moved to his neck.

"I know," Brian paused to catch his breath, pulling his head back. "You don't have to do this."

"Brian, I want to do this." Justin grinned and reached for Brian's belt and started to undo it.

"Twat," Brian gave a small huff of laughter before catching Justin's hand in his own. "You know what I mean. You don't have to go down to the police station."

Justin shook his head at the irony – all he wanted to do was fuck and Brian wanted to talk. "I need to," Justin sighed quietly, taking in the determination in Brian's eyes. "I guess you need to understand why." At Brian's nod, Justin took his hand and led him over to the couch. "It feels like it's all coming to a head – the bashing, the prom, the bombing. It's hard to explain."

"I'm listening."

"The bombing turned everything on its head. Lindsay and Mel going to Toronto, us getting back together, Michael, New York. Everyone went a little crazy for a while."

"You call us getting back together crazy?"

"No – but buying the mansion was. My leaving was insane. I couldn't paint in New York without you. Brian, I…" Justin took a deep breath at the pain in Brian's eyes, "I can't believe I left you like that. All because Lindsay said I needed to go to New York."

"She was right – you had a show, got an agent."

"She was wrong." Justin looked Brian in the eye, "I got the show because of the press from Pittsburgh. I got lucky that Jared came to the show. A friend of his dragged him out to see Philippe's work – the other artist. And none of that would have mattered…"

Brian shook his head, "Why?"

"I couldn't paint." Justin swallowed hard, "That's never happened before. Those first few weeks when we weren't talking – I couldn't paint."

"I know. Daphne told me," Brian started laughing. "She came over, got me high enough that I fucking spilled my guts. I don't know how the hell she did it but the next thing I know, I'm planning the move to New York." Brian shook his head in disbelief, "How does she do that?"

"She just keeps asking questions until you figure it out."

"Unlike Lindsay, who just tells you what she thinks is best for you." Brian frowned as he thought about Lindsay, "Why did I listen to her?"

"That was part of the insanity. She convinced you it was what I needed." Justin smiled ruefully, "You've always focused on that. Don't blame Lindsay. We should have known she was an emotional wreck. Think about it – one of her best friends died in the bombing. Getting back together with Mel and moving to Toronto? It was obvious it was going to be a disaster."

"I knew that." Brian frowned, "I've been waiting for the train wreck for years – just wondering what would finish it. It's been fun to watch." Brian snorted in disgust as he thought back to his last conversation with Lindsay and decided to warn Justin. "When I was talking to her about the move to New York, she said she thought I was making the same mistake she did – rushing, not thinking the relationship through, and ignoring the history."

Justin looked up, instantly furious. "She said that! Jesus Christ, Brian, the situation is completely different." He got up and started to pace.

"That's what I told her… Well, I just told her to butt out. I didn't point out all the differences." Brian grinned, leaning back, waiting for Justin to blow.

"Our history is completely different!" Just threw up his hands in fury as he bounced off the couch. "We split because we wanted different things. We didn't spend the last two years being complete bitches to each other, lying to each other, lying to our friends. There is no comparison. We were always there for each other. Plus you've always wanted to go to New York and it's the obvious place for me to be. What the hell was in Toronto? Nicer people? They had no reason to go and every reason to stay."

Brian grinned – if Lindsay could see him now, she'd stop treating Justin like a kid - they all would. "What does this all have to do with seeing Hobbs?"

Justin stopped mid-rant, surprised at the question, before he began to grin sheepishly. "I'll explain, but one last thing about Lindsay first." Brian raised an eyebrow expectantly. "We take no advice on our lives from her. She's talking you into staying in Pittsburgh. She'll probably tell me I need to go to Europe next. We listen nicely, but we ignore her and talk to each other. I love her, but her advice sucks and not in a positive, life-affirming way. Agreed?"

"Agreed." When Justin didn't say anything more, Brian prompted again, "Hobbs?"

"Hobbs." Justin's shoulders dropped as he took a deep breath before sitting on the couch beside Brian. "Why do I need to see Hobbs?" Justin paused, gathering his thoughts, "It's the last thing to do to finish the prom and the bombing. It's as if, we just finish this and then we'll be able to get on with our lives, leaving it all behind." At the look of pain in Brian's eyes, Justin swore, "That's not what I mean – I don't want to forget the prom."

"It's okay if you do, Justin. You got bashed in the head with a baseball bat because of that dance."

"Is that what you think?" Justin demanded. At Brian's reluctant nod, "Hobbs told me to stay away or I'd regret it. That's why I went. Think it through. Where do you think he got a baseball bat? The guy didn't even play baseball."

"He brought it with him?" At Justin's emphatic nod, Brian sat, stunned, for a moment. "The whole thing was planned?"

"Of course it was. Now that I remember, it's obvious. Before you came that night, Hobbs told me I shouldn't have shown up." Justin watched as Brian finally realized the bashing wasn't his fault, as the beautiful face in front of him lightened, "You saved my life that night. The attack had nothing to do with our dance, nothing to do with you saying you love me."

"I'm not stupid enough to think you got hit in the head because I said I love you," Brian muttered, glancing off to the side.

"Not consciously, no. Christ, Brian, I'm so sorry," Justin said, eyes shining with moisture.

"For what?" Brian refocused on Justin. "It's not your fucking fault."

"For saying you didn't do romance, that you couldn't say you love me, when the truth was, I just didn't remember it." Justin laughed ruefully, "The most ridiculously romantic thing ever and I didn't remember it."

Brian got up abruptly, walking to the window of the loft, looking out. "It's history now," he said, his voice choked slightly.

Justin joined him, hugging him from behind. "Our history," he agreed, "and I love my memories of the prom."

Brian cleared his throat and turned, "We're running out of time and you still haven't answered me. Why are you going to see Hobbs?"

"To finish it – to finish off the insanity caused by the bombing so we can get on with our lives. If there's a chance he'll confess, I want him to do it. Then we won't have to come back for the trial. It'll be over."

Brian thought about warning Justin that it's never over. Put Hobbs away and another bastard will appear, but Brian chose not to voice reality. This wasn't the time. Brian simply pulled Justin in and stood, holding him, looking out over the city.

As Brian and Justin entered the interview room at the police station where they would wait for Hobbs' arrival, the district attorney stood quietly observing them. "Welcome, gentlemen. I wanted to thank you for coming personally. I'm Don Rennick, the DA."

Justin shook the outstretched hand with a slight smile. Brian held back slightly, assessing the man in front of him. Ignoring the hand, he asked bluntly, "Don't you have enough to put that bastard away without staging scenes?"

Rennick paused at the question, thinking. "Gentlemen, can I speak frankly and trust you not to spout off to the press?" After a quick glance between them, Brian and Justin both nodded. "If you weren't both gay, if Babylon wasn't a gay club, I'd say yes. I'd be going after the death penalty." He sighed, "I don't trust our jury and sentencing system enough. A jury of your peers would be great, but it won't be your peers. It only takes a few homophobes to swing the vote. And there are too many around to guarantee jury selection." Don grinned ruefully, "And if the press finds out that I believe that, it'll make headline news. I'll get a lot of questions about unequal justice. I want to keep them focused on the bomb – not where it was set off." Don looked at Justin, "Your press conferences haven't helped me do that."

Justin shrugged his shoulders, "I gave a few interviews to get the reporters hounding me off my back. I can't see how it hurts your case."

"It doesn't. It just polarizes the population and makes it a bit harder to get an unbiased jury." Don stared at Justin, wondering how much he could help. "I want to get a plea bargain that saves us a trial by taking the death penalty off the table. Justin, I need you to goad Hobbs into talking."

"What makes you think he will? Won't he have his lawyer with him?"

"You're right, his lawyer will be there and will advise him to be quiet. Fortunately, Hobbs won't listen to his lawyer. He should – Dalton's a good lawyer," Rennick smiled, "but as far as we can tell, Hobbs doesn't listen to anyone. When he's not having a psychotic breaks, he's arrogance personified, completely convinced that what he did is right."

"He always was arrogant."

"That belief is what we need you to focus on, Justin. Push that button a few times and he'll start telling you why you're wrong, how easy it is to kill gays with bombs. Hopefully, he'll even name the other members of his group."

At Brian's questioning glance, Rennick shook his head grimly. "That's right. He didn't work alone. There's a group of about a half-dozen individuals. We've only been able to identify two of them. What we won't know until we find them is whether or not they're part of a larger organization or just like-minded individuals who met somehow. Even a confirmation that he's not working alone would be helpful. We haven't been able to get that out of him. I think there's a ringleader somewhere pulling all their strings, but I can't prove it."

Rennick nodded toward the door, "He should be out there now. Are you ready to do this?"

Justin nodded and started to move, but Brian held him back for a moment. "Hobbs is insane. How dangerous is this?"

Rennick smiled reassuringly, "Hobbs will be restrained, able to stand but wearing both ankle and wrist cuffs. He'll have two police officers with him and there'll be desks between you and him. There's no physical risk to you or Justin."

Justin and Brian shared a quick look and Brian gave a small nod. "Okay, let's do this."

The DA opened the door for the two other men and they entered the squad room. Silence fell over the room as the officers present waited for the staged scene to start.

"Hello, Chris. Fancy meeting you here," Justin said dryly as he spotted Hobbs sitting at a desk across the office. He could almost pity the man, dressed in the orange coveralls, bound hand to foot. Carl stood beside him, leaning on the desk. On the other side, stood a young uniformed police officer. Carl gave Justin a reassuring smile.

Chris stood up, staring in shock at Justin. "Taylor. What are you doing here?" His lawyer, Dalton, stood up beside him, a slim, medium height man in his mid-forties, his slightly greying hair giving a distinguished air offset by his inexpensive suit.

"Giving the police a statement about the bombing." Justin looked at Hobbs steadily. "I guess I don't need to ask why you're here."

Chris opened his mouth momentarily to speak, changed his mind and closed it again.

"You know, since we're both here, I'm curious about one thing."

Chris ignored his lawyer pulling on his arm and telling him to be quiet. "What?"

"Do you really hate being gay enough that it's worth going to prison for? Killing for?"

"I am not gay," Chris enunciated every word carefully.

"Come on, Chris. Remember who you're talking to." Justin smiled wickedly, "You loved that hand job."

"I was a child." Chris stood taller, arrogance personified even in cuffs. "A momentary aberration does not make me a deviant like you."

"Maybe not," Justin responded, "but you've been obsessing about deviants like me ever since then, haven't you? It must really piss you off."

"What?"

"That you didn't succeed. That I'm standing here, a free man, alive and well."

Chris shrugged his shoulders, "It could have as easily turned out differently."

Justin responded with a smirk. "You've tried to kill me twice, Chris and you're so incompetent that you didn't pull it off either time."

Chris' lawyer pulled on his sleeve, "Mr Hobbs, you need to stop talking. You're not -"

Chris looked down at the smaller man, scorn obvious, "Shut the fuck up. You're as useless as the rest of them."

The man pulled himself up, "If you ignore my advice, I won't be able to represent you effectively."

"Like your advice has been so good," Chris snarled, still focussed on Justin. "You should hear yourself - Don't say anything. It's best if you don't talk. Well, what if I want to fucking talk, have you thought of that?"

Dalton tried again, "If you talk, anything you say can be taken to court. I won't be able to do my job."

"I don't give a fuck about your job," the madness that had started years earlier now showed in Chris' eyes. "I only care about eliminating the poison that's contaminating our country. I don't need your advice on how to do that. You're just like all the rest – ignoring the spread of the poison. I don't need you. I don't need anyone."

Don Rennick interjected softly, "Are you dismissing your legal representative at this time, Mr. Hobbs?"

"I insist on consulting with my - " Dalton started, trying to get his client's attention.

"Get the fuck out. You're fired." Hobbs stared around the room, eyes insane, as Dalton began gathering his papers. At the look in hi eyes, Justin pulled closer to Brian. "Fuck you! Fuck all of you! We did something great. Even if I go to prison, it was worth it."

Dalton finished gathering his papers and with a look of relief on his face, stated, "Let the record show that Dalton and Associates are no longer the legal representatives of Christopher Hobbs." With a nod in Rennick's direction, he left the police station.

Shocked at the erratic behaviour, Justin leaned back slightly, touching Brian. Brian's hand came up and squeezed his shoulder. Drawing strength, Justin straightened up to continue. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head lightly, smirking. "Something great? You didn't even kill me!"

Hobbs stood, panting as he stared at Justin. "I achieved everything I set out to do. Killing you would have just been a side benefit – a bit of random luck."

"Christ, Chris – no one believes that. Everybody thinks you were trying to kill me again and just couldn't do it right. Just like the first time."

"That's not true. We weren't trying to kill you. We were leaching the poison out of our society. Showing the world what happens to sodomites like you."

"We?" Justin sneered, "What – you found someone to help you?"

"He found me. We all work together. I set the bomb but I wasn't alone. Eventually you and your kind won't be able to plague our great nation anymore. Everyone will know the truth – that you're evil and need to be eliminated. They already believe that. I won't go to jail. It'll be just like the first time. People know that I'm right and they'll protect me."

"No, they won't. Not this time, Chris. A baseball bat to my head is one thing – but a bomb? You're going down."

"We'll kill you yet!" Hobbs threw himself to the left, knocking the young officer standing there down, a sickening crack sounding through the room as his head hit the desk. He then gave Carl a shove, a football move using his shoulder. Carl stumbled briefly. Hobbs took the opportunity to move through the desks in Justin's direction, but he was hobbled by his ankle cuffs and went down hard, to his knees. Carl moved quickly, grabbing Hobbs and pushing him into his chair, cuffing him to the desk. Another officer knelt beside the officer who had gone down. "He's going to be okay – but we should probably get his head checked out."

Brian grabbed Justin by the arm, looking him in the eye. "Enough. You've made your point." He looked over at Rennick, "I think you got what you needed, right?" At Rennick's nod, Brian turned back to Justin. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

Justin stared for a moment at Hobbs before heaving a deep sigh, "Okay." He flashed Brian a smile as he started towards the door. "Let's go."

Justin opened the door to the station, blinking in the bright sunlight. The emotions from the scene with Chris still coursing through him, his relief at having the encounter over was resulting in a euphoric high. "It's over." It was all he could do not to break into giddy laughter. "I'll never have to see him again. This had to have been easier than a full trial."

Brian snorted softly, "I doubt it. At least with a trial things wouldn't have gotten so fucking out of control. I wonder what he meant about having friends?"

"I know - it is hard to believe, isn't it?" Justin agreed, giggling slightly.

"Justin - remember what Rennick said at the start. Hobbs and his homophobic friends ran in a pack. It sounded like a threat to me." As Brian and Justin started walking down the street toward the corvette, Brian moved closer to Justin, protectively.

"Who cares?" Justin almost sang, "Hobbs' going away for a long time and I don't have to think about him ever again." Justin gave a little dance of happiness before Brian, slightly embarrassed, pulled him in tight. "Relax, Brian, it is over. Let's go home to New York." Justin shifted away and started down the street to the corvette. "We've got things to do and places we haven't fucked in yet!"

Brian started to tell Justin that he needed to pay attention to Rennick's warning when he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. Squinting against the bright sunlight, Brian stopped abruptly as the figure down the street started to grin, his arm coming up, pointing towards Justin.

Brian heard himself scream, "No," as he moved instinctively into the line of fire, shielding Justin. He had a brief moment to wonder if he had it wrong, if he was just being an overprotective idiot again, before he felt the hit. As his body began to drop to the ground, he forgot how to breathe, how to hear, how to feel. Even pain was suspended for a moment as the shock of the bullet hit his nervous system. The last sense left was sight - he saw the furious face of the attacker as he turned to run. He didn't feel the pain of hitting the ground. He lay on the ground wondering why the cement was turning red when his sense of pain came screaming back and the world faded to black.


	31. Chapter 31 Aftermath

**Chapter 31 – Aftermath**

At the hospital forgotten amongst the bustle of the doctor's and nurses Justin sat immobile, waiting for what felt like an eternity, focusing on nothing, staring at the door to the operating area like his life depended on it. When the door opened yet again without news for him, Justin glanced down at his blood-covered hands - Brian's blood. He couldn't stop hearing the sound, the wet gurgling noise that had come from Brian's chest. Carl had told him to push down, apply pressure. _God, what if I didn't do it fast enough. Could I have done it faster?_ Justin closed his burning eyes with a pained expression, the shooting replayed itself for the millionth time. A face that Justin had never seen before, so filled with glee and hate and everything wrong with the world, looking so happy as he raised the gun. He heard Brian's yell, felt the shove pushing him out of the way and then the sight of Brian falling to the ground, lying at his feet looking dazed and scared. He shook his head to clear the memory and then his eyes returned to their place towards the operating area - waiting.

In the Novotny-Bruckner home, Hunter sat idly channel surfing looking for something to watch until it was time to head for the diner. He paused as Carl appeared running down the street toward Justin kneeling on the ground beside an injured person. The announcer's excited voiceover, "This is the scene just under an hour ago when shots were fired at Pittsburgh's police central station. We have confirmed that at least two people are injured, including a police officer. Both victims have been transported to hospital and the police are in pursuit of a lone gunman. News Now will keep you updated on this breaking story as more information becomes available." Hunter sat in stunned silence as he saw an ambulance pull up and load a man who could only be Brian Kinney onto a stretcher. "Oh, my God," he murmured as he reached for the phone.

Debbie arrived at the hospital fifteen minutes later, asking the only question that mattered, "Any news?" At Justin's slow shake of his head, she looked at the young man, obviously in shock. "Come on, sweetie. Let's get you cleaned up."

Justin glanced at his hands, "It doesn't matter."

"It matters. Brian's going to fucking freak out if he wakes up to see blood all over you."

"When he wakes up."

"What?"

"You said if he wakes up. It's when he wakes up."

Deb frowned slightly at her slip, "Of course it is. Let's just get those hands washed." Justin meekly let himself be led to the public washroom. He took a few minutes watching the blood swirl down the white porcelain sink - a few minutes to be alone and think before he had to face Deb again.

As he left the bathroom, Debbie turned to him. "Why can't they tell us what the fuck is going on?"

"They're busy taking care of him." Justin shook his head grimly. "He was pretty bad, Deb." He closed his eyes at the memories, barely able to speak. "The shot was to his chest, near his heart. It made noises ... God, like a gurgling sound. Like something inside was broken."

"He's tough, Sunshine. God knows he's had to be." Debbie ineffectively patted Justin's arm, offering what little comfort she could. "He'll pull through this."

"I'm not so sure." Justin smiled wistfully at the woman Brian considered his mother in every way that counted. "I asked him once what the best gift he'd ever gotten was." Justin looked at Debbie, "He said the key to your house. I don't know if you ever realized how much it meant to him."

"Of course I did. The minute Michael brought him home, I knew he was trouble. Then one night he came by after his dad had beaten the crap out of him, I gave him that fucking key so he'd know he had a place to go." Debbie's eyes misted over. "That asshole. If he dies, I'm going to fucking kill him when I get to heaven."

Justin gave a small, soft laugh at the statement, then closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, holding Debbie's hand tightly in his own.

A few minutes later, Michael, Jennifer and Ted arrived. Jennifer simply squatted in front of Justin, touching his knee slightly. As Justin focused in on his mother something seemed to break inside him, his eyes filled and he gave a choked gasp, "Mom, Brian…" He began to shudder, his whole body shaking more with every forced word. "He saved me again. Why did he do that?"

"He loves you." Jennifer took Justin's hand and pulled him up into a standing hug. He held on as if she was his lifeline, taking comfort as he sobbed quietly into her shoulder. After a little while, he took a great shuddering breath and stepped back to sit back down.

The uncharacteristically quiet group watched the clock tick the minutes by while Brian's surgery progressed. Justin stared at the operating area doors again, not speaking. A voice suddenly sounded from the nurse's desk. "He's my son and I want to talk to his doctor now." Joan Kinney stood with her daughter Claire behind her, demanding information. Justin gave a deep sigh, got up and walked over to the two women. Debbie started to join him, but he simply shook his head to tell her to remain behind.

"Hello, Mrs. Kinney. Brian is in surgery, but there's no news yet of how it is going." Justin gave a small nod of his head in the direction of his friends and family. "We'll just have to wait. Would you like to join us?"

"What are you doing here?" Joan demanded shrilly, her voice even more unpleasant than normal in the quiet confines of the waiting room.

Justin frowned slightly. "You remember me, don't you? Justin Taylor – Brian's partner."

"You have no right to be here." Her eyes closed in, almost black with malice. "You should leave. I can take care of my son."

Debbie, viewing the confrontation from across the room, joined the pair. "Now, Joan. You know that isn't true. Justin and Brian have been together for years."

"It doesn't matter. He has no rights here."

Justin simply shook his head, face hardening with determination. "I'm Brian's partner. I have every right to be here."

"Not legally," the bitter woman insisted.

"Ted!" Justin's voice now icy cut across the waiting room with unexpected authority. Ted Schmidt looked up in surprise and he immediately moved over to where Justin stood.

"What's up, Justin?"

"Can you please call Kinnetic and get a copy of the relevant paperwork over here. Everything I need to prove my rights."

Ted stared at Joan Kinney with intense dislike, "Sure thing. It shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes." Ted moved away, getting on the phone.

Justin shook his head at the two women who were the mockery that was Brian's family, his voice hardening. "I think you'll find that I have all the legal rights here. Now why don't the two of you shut the fuck up, sit down and wait with the rest of us like normal human beings."

Joan would have ignored Justin's angry glare but her daughter, Claire, could not. Grabbing her mother's arm, she whispered loudly. "Mom, come on. Let's sit down and wait."

Debbie shook her head in disgust and said loudly, "Fucking vultures."

Justin simply put an arm around Debbie and led her back to the chairs.

Carl walked into Allegheny General's operating waiting area ten minutes later, looking around for Justin. He saw him sitting, staring unblinkingly at the door. "Justin," he said clearly as he approached the younger man. At the lack of response he touched Justin's shoulder giving a gentle shake, "Justin!"

Justin looked up. It took a long moment for his mind to register Carl, "Have you found the shooter?"

"No. Any news on Brian?"

"Not yet."

Carl took a deep breath. "Did you get a good look at the shooter?"

"Yes. He was about my height and…" Justin broke off suddenly. "I'll sketch him for you."

"Good," Carl responded as he handed Justin a card, "Fax it to that number when it's done. I have to get back to work." Carl gave Debbie an apologetic look. "I'm sorry I have to go, sweetheart." Carl leaned in to give Debbie a hug before he left.

"Carl," Justin called out as the detective turned to leave. "How did he know we were there?" At Carl's puzzled look, he clarified, "The shooter. How did he know we'd be there? Only the cops and the district attorney knew. He was waiting for us." Seeing the dawning comprehension on Carl's face, he repeated. "How the fuck did he know?"

As Carl left the hospital, Justin walked over to the nurse's desk, interrupting her conversation with another patient. "I need a piece of paper, a pencil and something to draw on."

The nurse started to respond, "Sir, if you'd wait a moment, I'm sure – "

Justin's eyes glazed with tears momentarily, his demeanor barely controlled. "I can't wait. I need to give the police a sketch of the man who shot my partner." He took a deep breath at the hostile look on the nurse's face. "Can I just have a fucking piece of paper and a pencil?"

The nurse's face iced over at the language of the gay man in front of her. "If you'll wait until I'm done with this patient."

"Here, you can borrow mine." An unfamiliar voice caught Justin's attention as a little blonde girl, about ten years old, called over to him from where she sat with her mother. She had a sketchpad open on her lap, with a full pencil case beside her.

Glancing at her mother for permission, Justin got a nod with a sympathetic smile from the older woman. "Thank you very much," he murmured, his voice thick with barely repressed emotions as he sat down. Glancing in the pencil case, he pulled out a pre-sharpened pencil. He started to turn the page when he was caught by the picture in front of him. She had drawn an incredibly detailed forest scene, under a rainbow sky. "This is really good."

"Thanks," she offered a small smile in return.

Justin turned to a fresh page in the pad and started to sketch. Within minutes, a face appeared, in his early twenties, with a soft rounded chin, and a Roman nose. It was a distinctive face, not handsome, but easily recognizable. Justin had never seen it before.

Justin glanced up to see Ted speaking to a man in his early twenties holding a package of papers. He smiled his thanks at the little girl and his mother and tore the page out of the sketch book before joining Ted.

"Justin, this is Gareth." Ted performed the introductions. "He's going to New York to be Brian's assistant in the big city."

"I'm sorry to meet you under these circumstances, sir." Gareth closely observed the man in front of him, taking in the red-rimmed eyes, the exhaustion and the fear. "I've brought the papers you asked for. The partnership and the power of attorney are both in this folder. I expect you will only need the latter. Is there any word on Mr. Kinney's condition yet?" The last question was tentative, concerned.

"No, nothing yet." Justin passed Gareth the sketch and the card Carl had provided. "Can you get this faxed to the police? It's urgent. It's a sketch of the shooter."

"Certainly, sir," Gareth continued, his eyes narrowing on the image. "Your Aunt Tilda called, wanting to know how Mr. Kinney is doing. She indicated that she was pressuring the appropriate people to ensure the shooter is found. I have also taken the liberty of arranging for security. There will be two guards -"

Gareth broke off as the surgery doors opened.

Justin turned and moved rapidly to the doctor. "Brian Kinney - how is he?"

"He's going to be …"

"Why are you giving out my son's information to this man?" Joan demanded.

Justin whirled on her, furious as he all but snarled. "Would you shut up?" Turning back to the doctor, he waved the envelope in his hand, pulling out the legal documents. "I have Brian's power of attorney. How is he?"

Ignoring Joan's outraged gasp, the doctor answered Justin. "He's going to be all right. The bullet nicked a rib and hit his lung before lodging in the back rib. We've repaired the damage and removed the bullet. It didn't hit his heart."

Justin felt his legs momentarily weaken and he grasped Michael's arm just to stay upright as the doctor continued. Justin handed the documents to Michael to free up his hands to wipe his eyes.

"He'll be in post-operative care for about two hours and then we'll move him to intensive care. We'll have a better idea then of how long before he can go home. He seems to be physically very fit, so I hope it won't be a long recovery. And he should recover fully." The doctor smiled ruefully. "As bullet wounds go, this one wasn't too bad."

"That's easy for you to say." Justin started to laugh, started shaking and then the sound cut off abruptly as he got his emotions under control. "When can I see him?"

"I can have a nurse escort one person into post-op. You've got his power of attorney so that would be you. When he gets to intensive care, he'll be able to have two visitors at a time."

"I demand to see my son."

Justin turned back to look at Joan Kinney, no longer caring if she was offended. "When he's conscious - if he wants to see you. Until then, stay the fuck out."

"You can't keep me away from Brian."

"Yes, I can. I don't really want to, but I do want him to recover his strength before he has to deal with the two of you." Scorn dripped from Justin's voice, making his opinion of the Kinney's clear. "Gareth, did you say you've arranged security?"

"Given that there have been two attempts on your lives in the last two months, it seemed prudent, sir."

"Jesus Christ," Debbie muttered. "You can't be serious."

"Very serious, ma'am. The statistical odds of Mr. Taylor being randomly involved in two near-fatal attacks in a two-month period are so low that it seems quite probable he is the target."

Justin rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. "I can't believe somebody wants me dead this badly."

"Lack of belief in this instance could be fatal, sir. I strongly suggest you let the bodyguards do their jobs. One of them will be on Mr. Kinney's door as soon as he comes out of post-operative care. They are on their way."

"He's right, Justin." Jennifer interjected seriously, clearly horrified at the thought. "Somebody is trying to kill you. Take the bodyguards. Brian can't defend himself."

The thought of Brian in danger was enough. Justin nodded his head. "All right." He shook his head violently, clearing his thoughts. "I need to see Brian. The rest of this doesn't matter right now." He abruptly turned and followed he nurse out of the waiting area.

Justin felt goose bumps erupt all over his body as he made his way to his injured lover; he shuddered with relief at the sight of Brian, lying asleep on the bed. The ad exec looked far more vulnerable than Justin had ever seen him, even if the bandages from the injury were hidden under the hospital gown. Brian's lips stood out against the pallor of his face. As Justin moved to the bed, the nurse murmured, "He should wake up in about a half hour. He'll be disoriented from the anesthetic."

Justin gave a hiccupping laugh, looking at her with a tear-streaked face. "You're lucky. He's not going to be an easy patient when he starts to recover."

She smiled back. "One of those, huh." At Justin's nod she continued, "That'll be the ICU team's problem. I get them while they're groggy. It's okay to sit with him – just be careful of his left side."

Justin moved to the bed and gingerly took Brian's right hand. The tears started to flow quietly down his face again as he buried his head into Brian's side, settling in to wait for Brian to wake up.


	32. Chapter 32 Shock Waves

**Chapter 32 – Shock Waves**

"Dinner was wonderful, Aileen." Lindsay smiled over at the smaller woman as she stood in the brightly lit kitchen drying the dishes. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate your putting us up like this." Lindsay loved the new family she'd found in New York.

"Obviously you can, love." Aileen responded with a quirky grin. "You keep telling me over and over again."

Emmett laughed from where he was sitting at the table, sipping a coffee. "She's got a point, Linds. I've heard you say thank you at least twenty times already and I have only been here a couple of hours."

Aileen glanced over at Emmett, smiling at the sight of his chartreuse T-shirt in combination with peacock blue pants. "You can stop thanking me now and just enjoy the visit. I like having family over on Sundays. The kids love Gus and he keeps them entertained, giving us this wonderful moment of quiet."

A panicked scream punched through the moment of quiet. "Daa – dd - ee!"

Lindsay eyes met Emmett's in shock for a moment, before she rushed into the living room where Gus stood pointing at the television, crying hysterically.

Lindsay picked up the panicked child. "Gus, what's wrong?"

Gus buried his face in her neck, muttering. "Da, da, da,…" repeatedly.

Aileen had a moment to look at her own crying children, before feeling the impact of six-year old Sean attaching himself to her in a giant hug. She put a hand on his shoulder for comfort. Angel sat on a chair, curled up into a ball, not speaking, simply shaking silently. Liam stood in front of her, crying. Looking at her oldest boy, Aileen demanded with her heart halfway up her throat. "What happened, Liam?" At Liam's silence, she looked him in the eye. "Quickly, lad. What's going on?"

Liam's voice was soft, broken by hiccups as he tried to stop crying. "The cartoons were over, so we were just playing around." At Aileen's encouraging nod, he continued, "The news came on and Gus saw his dad. We were all watching and then…" Liam's small freckled face was shockingly pale under his bright red hair, "and then he got shot!"

"What!" Emmett exclaimed, watching as Lindsay sank down onto the couch with Gus wrapped around her. He pulled out his cell phone. "I'll call, Lindsay. You hold on to Gus."

After a few moments, he announced. "No answer from Brian or Justin." At Lindsay's horrified gasp, Emmett said sternly. "Don't panic." He gave an encouraging smile, "Something might have come up." Seeing Lindsay calm slightly, he smiled. "That's better." Hitting a different speed dial number, he continued. "Teddy will know what's going on."

He waited a moment, and then sighed as he said. "Busy. I'll try Kinnetic. He mentioned they were all working this weekend. Maybe they stayed late."

A moment later, a strange female voice came on. "Could I speak to Ted Schmidt please?" There was a momentary pause as she responded. Emmett's face paled as he repeated back the response. "He's at the hospital. What's Mr. Kinney's status?" Seeing Lindsay start to cry, Emmett sat on the couches' arm and put his arm around her and Gus. "Could you connect me to Cynthia, please?" He frowned at the negative response, his voice taking on a firm tone. "I am standing here with Brian's family. His son just saw the shooting on the news. I think they need to know what's happening. Put me through to Cynthia right now. I don't care how busy she is."

Moving the phone away from his mouth slightly, Emmett said. "He's in surgery. They're waiting to hear how it went." At Lindsay's terrified look, he smiled reassuringly. "He got to the hospital alive. The doctor's can usually fix it if they get to the person on time. Don't panic."

Hearing a voice come on, he turned his attention back to the phone. "Cynthia? Thank God! It's Emmett Honeycutt. I'm here with Lindsay and Gus. How is Brian?"

As he listened, his face broke into a huge smile. "He's out of surgery! He's going to be okay!"

Gus pulled his tearstained face up from Lindsay's neck. "I want Daddy!"

Lindsay was crying too hard to respond, so Aileen interjected. "Your Daddy's in Pittsburgh, Gus."

"I want to see Daddy." Gus' pulled himself out of his mother's arms to glare at all three adults. "We can fly."

Emmett stared in shock as Gus transformed into a miniature Brian. He'd always looked like Brian, but this was the first time Emmett saw the attitude. Looking over at Lindsay, he asked, "What do you think?" At her nod, Emmett continued on the phone. "Gus wants to see his father. Can you arrange for a flight back for Lindsay and him?"

Emmett smiled over at Lindsay as he heard Cynthia's agreement, but then turned more serious as he responded to her question about Lindsay's state of mind. "She's pretty shook up."

Emmett started to laugh at the response. "You're right. We'd both be dead if anything happened to them. I'll go along and make sure everything's okay." Emmett's face softened. "Thanks, Sweetie. I'd really like to come home right now and make sure everyone's okay."

A moment later, Emmett returned his phone to his pocket and gave Lindsay a hug. "Cynthia kept apologizing. She said it never occurred to her that Brian's shooting would make national news. She's booking all three of us flights home. Why don't you two go and get packed. I'll go do the same thing, and call you as soon as I hear back from her."

Gus looked over with an extremely determined gaze. "We'll be ready."

* * *

Brian opened his eyes slowly, blinking at the light before closing them again and attempted to speak. "Close the fucking blinds." Scratchy, weak and not at all clear, he started to wonder what the hell he had taken the night before.

"He's waking up," Justin's voice sounded off in the distance, almost eager. What the fuck was going on?

"It's a bit early, but within normal parameters," a strange voice replied.

Brian tried to speak again, but ended up coughing instead. His throat hurt like hell. He managed to open his eyes and saw white all around him. The memories flooded back the next instant followed by an intense wave of worry. "Justin!" Brian immediately tried to get up to find Justin, panicked.

"Shh! Stay still." A blond head moved into Brian's vision as a hand touched his shoulder, holding him down. "I'm right here. I'm fine. You're a fucking mess, but you'll be fine too."

Brian collapsed back onto the bed, relief coursing through him. He stared into Justin's face, noting the blood stains and tear tracks. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Justin's voice hitched slightly. "You were in surgery a long time getting the bullet out."

"How bad?"

"It hit your lung, but they say you're going to be fine." Justin paused for a moment, remembering the scene on the street. "Asshole."

Brian watched as Justin's eyes filled, then cleared as he fought back the tears. "What did I do?"

"Took a bullet that was aimed at me," Justin sighed dramatically, faking a smile. "Didn't you know Rage is supposed to be fiction?"

Brian snorted softly. "I had to do something. Everybody knows that mind control doesn't work at long distances."

Justin leaned down and gently touched his forehead to Brian's. "You're going to have to be more careful. I want you around for a long time."

Brian smiled at the memories the phrase evoked. "Don't worry. I plan to be. Too much to live…"

Brian's voice drifted off as the anesthetic kicked in again and he fell back asleep.

Justin's looked over the nurse with obvious concern. "What's happening? Why is he passing out again?"

A reassuring smile came back. "It's normal. He'll be drifting in and out for another few hours. We'll move him into the ICU in a couple of hours. He'll be in a regular room tomorrow morning."

Justin leaned over to kiss Brian's forehead. "I'm just going to go let everybody know he's okay. If he wakes up, tell him I'll be right back."

"Don't worry." The nurse smiled reassuringly at Justin, "I'll take care of him for you."

Justin entered the hospital waiting room and had to smile at the sight of his make-shift family. His smile faded slightly at the sight of Brian's mother and sister, whispering, separated from the group. Taking a deep breath, he announced loudly. "He's going to be okay."

Debbie responded first, with a bright smile of relief, a quick laugh and tear-filled eyes. "We knew he had to be. You can't keep Brian Kinney down." Her eyes took on their usual twinkle before continuing "- unless it involves bondage."

Michael shook his head at his mother as he got up and walked over to Justin to give him a hug. As he pulled back, he demanded. "When can we see him?"

"Not for a couple of hours yet. He's still feeling the anesthetic and he'll be in Recovery for a while."

Ted stood up with a huge smile of relief lighting up his face. "In that case, I'd better get back to work." He gave a small laugh. "I'm not sure Brian would think his getting shot is a good enough reason to take a Sunday afternoon off." Walking over to Justin, he gave the blond a quick hug. "Give him my best and tell him I'll be by when he can talk business." He paused for a moment. "If you get a chance, drop by the office, Justin. I have some paperwork on your new company for you. There's also a new Kinnetics campaign we need some input on."

Justin looked startled at the request. "Why me?"

"You're a partner in the company, and Brian's in the hospital. I'd rather not bother him with this one right now, but we need some decisions made." Ted grinned, not noticing the impact of his words as a sudden silence settled over the group. "Brian's told me more than once that he'd make you head of the art department if he thought you'd take the job. I agree with him."

Justin looked stunned for a moment and then a slow smile started to grow at the thought of Brian's confidence in him. "I'll come in when I get a chance. Thanks, Ted."

"Partner?" Michael arched an eyebrow, grinning. "How many blow jobs did that take, Justin?"

Justin chuckled, thinking back to Tilda Avery. "About ten million."

"Is that what that place is worth?" Ted gasped in surprise.

"You haven't gotten the appraisal yet?"

Ted shot Justin a sardonic look. "It may seem like years, but you just signed all the paperwork on the church two days ago. It hasn't even gotten to me yet. I'll start on it on Monday. The partnership papers were finalized only last week. I work fast, but figuring out the financial implications of all this isn't going to happen overnight."

"Sorry, Ted. I didn't mean to dump everything on you."

Ted started to laugh. "Don't apologize, I work for Brian Kinney. I'm used to it. Besides, my bonuses are based on Kinnetic's bottom line. Anytime you want to throw another ten million at the company, feel free. I can handle the paperwork." Ted gave a final wave before leaving.

Jennifer stared at Justin in shock. "Where did you get ten million dollars, Justin?"

Joan Kinney's voice broke in before he could answer. "Young man." Justin heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes at his own mother before turning to Brian's.

"Mrs. Kinney." Justin gave a cautious nod at the older woman. "What can I do for you?"

"Did I hear correctly? Brian is going to be all right?"

"Yes. He came through surgery and he'll be fine."

Joan looked off to the side for a moment before taking a deep breath and turning back to Justin. "I'd like to apologize for my earlier behavior - hearing on the news that my only son was shot. I…" Joan's eyes glistened with tears as her voice started to fail her. "I knew we didn't get along, but I didn't realize just how much…"

Justin leaned in, encouraging her to continue. "Didn't realize what?" he asked softly.

Debbie moved in as well. "What is it, Joan?"

Joan's chin came up, a bitter look on her face as she choked back tears. "It doesn't matter. I'll be leaving."

Justin could feel pain radiating from Brian's mother. His hand came out to grab her arm lightly. "Wait. What didn't you realize?"

Joan stared at Justin's hand for a moment before staring him in the eyes. "I didn't know that my son hated me so much that he wouldn't want me notified if he was hurt."

Justin shook his head as he realized what she had been thinking. "That wasn't Brian's fault. It just didn't occur to me to call."

Joan shook her head in disbelief. "You called everyone else. They were all here when I arrived. Brian must have…"

"No, he wouldn't, Joan," Debbie interjected. "My grandson Hunter heard the news and he called everyone. He's never met you, so he didn't know to call. I'm sorry it didn't occur to me to contact you." Debbie frowned thoughtfully. "Is that why you were so angry when you arrived?"

Joan dashed a tear from the corner of her eye. "How would you feel if Michael had been shot and no one even bothered to call you?"

"Fucking awful," Debbie commiserated in response.

Justin spoke up, pulling Joan's attention back to him. "It's me that needs to apologize. Brian was shot right in front of me. I wasn't thinking clearly." Justin radiated sincerity as he promised, "I'll do better next time."

"I certainly hope not." Joan's firm statement caught Justin by surprise. "I'd rather there wasn't a next time."

Justin gave a small smile as Debbie burst out laughing. "Definitely a better idea."

"Young man." Joan's face softened slightly before continuing. "Justin. I may not approve of all of Brian's choices, but I still don't want anything to happen to him. He's my son." Looking over at her still blubbering daughter, she snapped out. "Claire, it's time to go." She turned back to Justin, arching a brow commandingly. "Call me when he's able to see visitors." With a rueful smile at Justin, she added. "I know that might take a little longer when he knows the visitor will be me. Take care of him. I'll be praying for him." She patted Justin's arm in encouragement before turning to go.

Justin stood in shock as Brian's mother left the hospital, relieved the encounter was over and overwhelmed by the knowledge that Joan Kinney might prove human after all. His sense of relief vanished when he heard his mother's voice.

"Justin," Jennifer demanded. "I still want to know where you got ten million dollars."


	33. Chapter 33 Recovering

**Chapter 33 – Recovering**

Justin grinned as he entered the side entrance at Allegheny General, moving from the bright morning sunlight into the cold, dry interior on his way to the intensive care unit. The day was off to a great start. Neither the bodyguard with the rather worrisome name of Axe who was trailing him, nor the antiseptic aroma that spoke of extended hospital stays could dampen his mood, made excellent by the news of Brian's expected speedy recovery. He had even avoided the press vans at the hospital's main entrance, based on Axe's advice. Best of all, he had told everyone in the family to stay away until after the move to a regular room from intensive care. As a result, Justin would have Brian to himself this morning – a situation he knew would end as soon as everyone else was allowed into the room. Justin found himself whistling, rather badly, as he walked down the corridor.

Eight o'clock in the morning was early for visitors, but he knew that unless the drugs had kept Brian out all night the nurses would be ready to be rescued. Justin glanced back at his bodyguard. The tall, muscled Latino man held himself with an awareness that was compelling. He gave the impression of being perpetually on alert. Justin knew he'd have to draw him soon, to try to capture that stillness coupled with the edge of potential violence.

Nodding a greeting to a passing nurse, Justin rounded the corner to Brian's room. He stopped in shock at the sight of a tall, much older man obviously in a great deal of pain. Turning, Justin grabbed the bodyguard by the arm. "He's gone." Justin almost ran to the nurses' station. "Brian Kinney. He's not in his room. Where is he?"

The nurse held up a hand signaling Justin to wait, as he she continued her conversation on the phone. He felt the bodyguard's hand on his shoulder just before he heard the deep voice murmur. "Relax, she's calm."

Justin vibrated in place, weight shifting restlessly from one foot to the other as he tried to keep from throttling the woman. He nearly collapsed with relief when as she hung up the phone and stated, "He's been moved into a regular room. We ran out of space last night and he was in the best shape, so he got shifted." There was a slight pause as she typed a query into the computer. "Room 218." She blinked at the intensity of the smile she received in thanks. As Justin walked away, the nurse leaned forward slightly, watching him move before shaking her head slightly and turning back to work. Axe gave her a slightly knowing grin then pulled out his cell phone as he trailed Justin to the second floor. "Kinney's been moved. We'll need Tank here as soon as possible."

As Justin entered the corridor on the second floor, he knew he was in the right place. The raised voices coming from Room 218 echoed down the hall. Rather than interrupt, Justin signaled Axe to wait and leaned against the door, a slight smile on his face as he watched the Brian Kinney show.

"Listen, Ratched. You are not coming anywhere near me with that," Brian exclaimed from the bed, right hand protectively covering his chin while glaring at the razor in the nurse's hand.

The exasperated nurse, an amazon almost six feet in height, sighed. "Mr. Kinney. I'm not planning to slit your throat, tempting though it might be. I just thought you'd like a shave this morning."

Justin grinned, waiting for the eruption.

"You've obviously never shaved with a fucking two-blade Walmart special. You'll cut my throat whether you plan to or not, especially with that no-name shaving cream. That shit smells like a hairy bear's armpit in July."

Justin burst out laughing. "How exactly would you know that aroma? I thought bears weren't your type."

Looking over at Justin as he stood leaning against the door, Brian gave a condescending little smirk. "You've got to try everything once, and aromas carry, especially in the baths." He gave the nurse a glare before saying in a voice reminiscent of Gus at his worst. "You've got to save me, Sunshine. Nurse Ratched here is out to get me."

"I can't imagine why she'd think slitting your throat would be a good idea." Justin gave the nurse a winsome smile, thanking her for her patience and humor without saying a word. He held up a small bag and shook it. "I can take care of him this morning, if you'd like. I have his label queen personal hygiene products right here."

She shook her head, smiling. "I can tell he's going to be an interesting patient. He's all yours, but don't let him move around too much. The stitches might re-open."

"Don't worry. I'll tie him down if I have to."

Brian leaned more comfortably against the pillow. "Promises, promises." As the nurse left the room, the smirk faded from his face to be replaced with a grimace as he let his guard down.

Justin walked to the side of the bed and sat next to Brian's uninjured side. "How are you feeling?"

Brian gave a small laugh, grimacing slightly as he did so. "Like I've been shot. It hurts like a motherfucker. Of course – they've got fucking amazing drugs."

"Try not to piss off the nurses too much. They might take away your drugs."

"I'm not worried."

"Brian, irritating the living hell out of the nurses is a very bad idea."

"They love me." Brian smirked ruefully. "Apparently I'm a tragic, romantic hero or some shit like that."

"What?" Justin's incredulous tone echoed through the room. "I can buy the hero part, but tragic and romantic? It's just so not you."

Brian's face took on a facetious, wide-eyed innocence. "You don't know me as well you think you do, Justin." Brian's face shifted into more serious lines before continuing. "The story of your hospital stay and my nights here has made the nursing staff rounds. Add in the bombing and the shooting and they all think we're a fucking fairy-tale that just hasn't gotten to the happy ending yet."

"Well, aren't we?" Justin asked quietly. At Brian's look of total disgust, Justin chuckled before saying solemnly. "Have I said thank you yet for saving my life?"

"Not unless you said it when I was too out of it to remember."

Justin smiled. "Thank you for my life. Try not to get shot next time – okay?" He leaned in to kiss Brian, building a slow, steady fire between them. When he started breathing again, Justin glanced down at the tenting in the bedsheets. "Are you sure you're up to it?"

"I'm always up."

Justin flashed Brian a quick smile as he walked over to the room door. Giving Axe a small, mischievous grin, he murmured softly. "Call out if anyone wants in." Axe responded with a raised brow, followed by a knowing smile and a quick nod.

Closing the door behind him, Justin walked back to Brian. "Promise me you'll tell me if I hurt you."

"Don't worry, Sunshine. You can only make me feel so much better."

"Brian."

"Fine." Brian gave a small moue of disgust. "I'll tell you if my boo-boo hurts."

Justin's smile lit up the room. "In that case, I'll be happy to say thank you properly." Justin turned serious for a moment. "Don't move. Just let me do all the work." Justin leaned in, determined to give Brian the best head known to man.

Brian had just started to enjoy himself when a growing argument could be heard from the corridor. Michael's frustrated voice carried clearly through the closed door. Axe's murmured responses were softer, more befitting a hospital ward.

"Look, I've got every right to see Brian. I'm his best friend and he just got fucking shot. So would you please move out of my way?"

After a moment where Justin couldn't quite make out the response, Michael continued "I don't give a shit what your orders are; I am going to see Brian." His voice growing in both pitch and volume, Michael yelled. "Brian! Tell your goon to let me through."

Justin lifted his head as Brian obviously lost both his good mood and his erection. "I know he's your best friend, but I swear he has an almost psychic ability for lousy timing."

Michael's voice carried in again. "Justin! I know you're in there. He just got shot for you. Can't you leave your dick in your pants until he's had at least twenty-four hours to recover?"

Brian started to chuckle ruefully. "You might as well let him in. He won't go anywhere until he's seen that I'm okay. If he can't report back to his mommy, he's going to end up with a concussion from her whacking him on the head - repeatedly."

Justin stood, straightening up Brian's bedding. "And right after she hits him, she'll come after us. Don't take this the wrong way because I'm glad you're better – but it might've been easier if you were still in the ICU. They couldn't get to you there." Justin grinned. "As it is, they'll all be here to see you today."

Brian groaned, picturing the day to come. "You'll save me, won't you?"

"From Debbie and my mother? Are you kidding?" Justin smirked as he headed to the door. "Not to mention your own mother. She dropped by yesterday."

"Shit, Justin. Why don't you just hit me when I'm down? I took a bullet for you – I would have thought you'd protect me."

Justin paused before opening the door. "From deranged, homophobic, mass murderers – absolutely. When it comes to our assorted mothers – you're on your own. I've already gotten hit in the head once – I can't handle Debbie's methods of tough love."

Justin opened the door, glancing at the bodyguard. "Its okay, Axe. Let him in." Glaring at Michael, Justin gestured toward the bed. "There he is, stuck with his morning wood for the rest of the day, thanks to you." Justin shook his head in disgust at the look on Michael's face, "and before you ask – No, I don't want you to take care of it for him."

"Geez, Justin," Michael groaned. "He's my friend. Why would you think I'd want to?"

Justin rolled his eyes in Brian's direction behind Michael's back as the man walked to the bed and sat down on the edge.

"Brian, how are you feeling?"

"Not as good as I was a couple of minutes ago, but I think I'll get back to that happy place soon." Brian leered at Justin happily.

Justin choked off a laugh at the exasperated look on Michael's face.

Michael continued gamely. "I meant how well are you recovering from being shot – not how you're feeling about your interrupted blow job."

Brian's face softened slightly as he looked at his oldest friend. "Not bad, Mikey. The doc says I'll recover quickly – probably due to all my clean living."

Michael snorted softly in response. "I should warn you – my mother knows you're out of intensive care. She's cooking for you."

Brian groaned. "God help me. I'm trapped and she's going to force lasagna down my throat. My ass will be as big as Justin's before I get out of here."

"Hey! You love my ass."

"On you – absolutely, but it wouldn't suit me at all."

Conversation stopped in the hospital room as an unexpected voice was heard out in the hallway.

"You better let me see my daddy, mister." Gus' anger was readily apparent to the men inside the room. "He needs me to kiss it better."

"How did he get here?" Brian nodded to the door urgently. "Justin – let them in."

A moment later, Gus was on the bed on Brian's good side, giving his father a kiss on the cheek. "I saw you on the news, Daddy. They said you got shot."

"Yeah, I did. But I'm going to be just fine, so don't worry."

Lindsay smiled at the scene in front of her with obvious relief. "I'm sorry to come rushing in this morning, Brian. But neither Gus nor I could relax until we saw you were all right." She walked over and gave Brian a careful hug.

"It's okay. I'm happy to see you guys. How did you get here so fast?"

"Emmett called Cynthia and they took care of everything."

Brian glanced over at Emmett where he stood in the doorway. He glared at Emmett for a moment, before relenting, obviously uncomfortable. "Thanks, Em."

"No problemo. Look at you - I should've known getting shot wouldn't keep Brian Kinney down for long." Emmett leaned against the door jamb, enjoying the break after the anxious flight. He listened to Gus tell his Daddy all about the flight and how he had made his mommy bring him. As he was standing there, however, he was distracted by the murmur of voices just outside the door. He didn't mean to listen to the bodyguard's conversation, but a good queen knows how to take gossip where he finds it and the news outside of the room was quite interesting.


	34. Chapter 34 And the Suspects are?

**Chapter 34 – And the Suspects are?**

Emmett can, as can any gossip maven, listen to two conversations at once. The group in front of him was having a fascinating discussion on the plans for renovating the church, a project he'd love to help with. But the conversation just outside the door was far more riveting.

"Hey," murmured the voice of Axe, Brian's bodyguard. "Good to see you, Kid."

"It's good to see you, too, Axe." A new voice with a Scottish accent responded. "How's Sherry?"

"She's doing okay. The kids are good, too."

"Sorry to drag you away from them to help me out."

"It's not a big deal. I go where the colonel assigns me. Sherry's used to it. Just be happy he thinks he owes you one."

"He does owe me." The flat statement, full of pain, echoed in Emmett's mind as he eavesdropped.

"No shit. If you have trouble collecting, just let me know." Axe's voice rose slightly as he changed the subject. "I've been meaning to ask you. Why Pittsburgh? The place is a hole and you could've been relocated anywhere."

"I'm not staying here. Kinney is relocating to New York and I'm going with him. The time in Pittsburgh is just helping establish my identity. Besides, do you know how hard it is to find an interesting, gay-friendly untraceable job? I sure as hell couldn't keep doing what I used to do. I'd be leaving footprints all over the net for Rashid to find. Even working as a bodyguard is too risky. Famous people get their pictures taken too much."

"I wouldn't worry. You've changed – a lot. You look older and the short hair style completely changes your face. I almost didn't recognize you."

"I am older." A deep sigh sounded. "I also wanted to get away from Washington. The colonel wouldn't be able to resist asking for help. I'm hoping that out of sight equals out of mind."

"You're not doing great at the out of sight part." Axe responded with a small chuckle. "Are you sure you don't want to keep consulting for us? Rashid's not looking for you."

"I know that. I've been tracking his movements. I've still got one sister left. I can't..."

After an extended pause, Axe's voice came back softly. "I'd feel the same. Is she looking forward to moving to New York?"

"Very much. She's been cooped up in the flat and didn't finding new mates since we're only here for a month or two. I've taken her to the cinema a few times, but it isn't enough. I'm amazed she doesn't hate me."

Emmett heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall as a break occurred in the conversation.

Axe's voice raised slightly in greeting, "Have you met Tank yet?"

"No, not yet. Pleased to meet you Tank."

"Tank, this is Gerald – otherwise known as the Kid." Emmett was pleased to finally hear the name associated with the Scottish burr as Axe responded.

"Gareth, you stupid sod. My name is Gareth." Emmett's interest sharpened at the reminder. This was all too interesting. "I'd rather not blow my cover with my new boss immediately."

"They're going to figure out something. Why would _Gareth_ be able to find bodyguards through the Federal Executive Protection Agency?"

"Kinney doesn't know where I got you. Just that you're here. We'll send him a bill as if you were a private agency."

"You can tell him the truth." Tank responded in a nasal, high-pitched voice. "It's not going to be a hard sell. Apparently, some big wig contributor is pissed that Kinney got shot, lady by the name of Avery. An order for inter-agency cooperation came down. It made it easy for the colonel to do you a favor, especially since Taylor's been classified as a civil rights leader."

Emmett's eyes narrowed at the thought of Justin's press coverage, wondering if that was the reason he'd gotten shot.

"Well, shit," Axe responded sarcastically. "That means I'm stuck in Pittsburgh until we figure out who's gunning for your boss. What did you find when you went digging?"

"There are definitely three guys working together on the assaults. There appears to be a fourth, a ring-leader but I haven't been able to track him yet. The three idiots I have found are using e-mail to send their plans. The cops should find it in a few days. Their computer expert is good, methodical. I'm nudging him in the right direction, but he has to wait for warrants. They're coming fast because a cop got shot, but it's still slowing him down."

"Must be nice to be a civilian and not have to pay attention to the niceties like warrants," Tank murmured.

"The Kid never did," Axe commented.

"I never officially worked for FEPA and we weren't trying to arrest anyone, so I didn't have to."

"Who are the three suspects?" Tank prodded.

"The first one, Hobbs, is already in jail. The second is a kid named Jeremy Lofts. He's the shooter. I've confirmed his identity against Taylor's sketch. He looks just like it. I haven't found where he's hiding yet. He hasn't used an ATM or credit card. I'm starting to trace all his friends and check their net activity. I'll find him and feed him to the cops. The last one is a kid named Joe Borden. As far as I can tell, he hasn't done anything yet, but he's got money. I tried tracing the purchase of the gun or explosives to him, but couldn't do it." Emmett heard a small rustle of paper before the discussion picked up again with Gareth's voice. "Here's a picture and his address."

"When do you think you'll have something on the fourth guy?"

"I don't know. He's smarter. They just refer to him as Jim. He doesn't text or e-mail them. I'm starting on their phone records, but if they're using disposables, I'll need the phone to trace him."

"Do you want to wait for the cops to get to these guys or go for the phones now?" Axe asked.

Gareth paused for a moment. "I don't think we're going to be able to get the ring-leader legally, so let's nab Borden's phone. You always had a light touch, Axe. Up for a bit of pick-pocketing?"

"Consider it done, Kid. I'll get you the phone as soon as Katy gets in. She can cover Taylor."

"I can cover him while he's at Kinnetics and Ted asked him to come in today. Just tell him that you've got something to do and not to leave until you get back. He won't know how unusual that is."

Tank interrupted the planning. "I thought you were just a computer nerd."

Axe snorted softly. "He's a bit more than that. He can handle Taylor for a few hours. How are we going to scare off the last two?"

Gareth laughed, a sound devoid of humor. "I'm sure I'll figure something out but we need to find the leader first. I don't want to do anything to Borden until he leads us to him. Have you talked to Kinney and Taylor yet?"

"Not yet. They were a bit busy first thing this morning." Emmett snickered, imagining what Brian and Justin had been up to.

"How did I land with the hospital detail? It's always boring." Emmett started to move away from the door as he heard Tank complain. Emmett's eyes widened as the massive man entered. Although of average height, Tank's bulk filled the doorway. He wasn't overweight, just a mass of muscle. His square face seemed abnormally pale against the dark black hair.

"Don't worry." Axe murmured as he followed Tank into the room. "I don't think these two do boring."

Emmett couldn't stop smiling as Gareth entered the room. He'd never seen a more appealing specimen of manhood. Gareth seemed oddly self-effacing as he held up some forms. "Mr. Kinney, I've brought some paperwork for you to sign, sir."

Axe interjected. "Can we talk to you first? We need some background to figure out who is after you."

Emmett watched in fascination as Gareth moved to the side of the room, apparently uninvolved in the investigation he appeared to be leading. The younger man was tall, gorgeous, and had fabulous dark gray eyes. Emmett kept wondering if Gareth was a top.

Axe interrupted his thoughts with a question. "Do you want your son to stay?"

"Is he in any danger if he goes?"

"Unlikely. Hobbs and the rest appear to be homophobes. Killing a kid isn't part of that mindset."

"Hey, Sonnyboy." Brian murmured. "Why don't you go with Auntie Em and get some breakfast while we talk to these men?"

Emmett grinned at Brian, happy to help out. "Gus, my man! Why don't we go see Grandma Deb at the diner and then go to the park for a bit?" He pranced lightly into the room, moving with a wiggle in front Gareth, accompanying the gesture with a small, inviting smile.

As he reached the bed, Brian frowned at him. "Something caught your eye, Honeycutt?" Gareth looked over at his boss, frowning slightly before turning an appraising eye to Emmett's ass is it moved.

Emmett winked at Brian, much to the man's disgust. "I've always had a good eye." With a smirk Emmett reached for Gus. "Ready to go, big fella?"

"Okay." Gus gave his father a gentle hug, followed by a serious stare. "Just don't get shot again."

"Don't worry." Brian smiled softly and kissed Gus' head. "That's what the bodyguards are for."

Gareth watched as Gus moved into Emmett's arms. As the pair left the room, Gareth couldn't help grinning as Gus glared at Tank threateningly, the family resemblance to his father obvious. The massive man held up his hands in surrender before murmuring to Gus reassuringly. "I'll take good care of him."

When Emmett and Gus had left the room, Gareth watched Axe begin the questioning, wishing he could do it himself. "We've got a lot of leads, but there's one question we haven't figured out." At the expectant looks, Axe asked, "Know anyone by the name of Jim who wants one of you two dead?"

Four jaws dropped simultaneously and then all eyes turned to Brian. It would have been comical, Gareth thought - if the situation weren't so serious.

"Well, shit. I never thought of him." Brian swallowed hard, shared a look with Justin and responded firmly. "Stockwell. Jim Stockwell would probably like to see me dead."

"Not just you," Justin murmured. "He isn't too fond of me either."

"No kidding," Lindsay said. "Especially after that incident at the GLC."

"No shit. He would have recognized Brian's handwork. And he was indicted." Michael warned.

"Is he homophobic?" Gareth interjected. "Capable of planning a bombing at Babylon?"

Four voices responded as one. "Yes."

"Tell me about him," Axe demanded, frowning at Gareth to remind him to stay out of it. As Gareth listened in disbelief to the story of the election campaign, police action on Liberty Avenue, job loss and ultimately, indictment, he knew Stockwell was a prime suspect. When the story concluded, he couldn't stop himself asking, "Is he on the police's suspect list?"

Justin frowned at Gareth, "Carl already knows about him. The rest of the cops wouldn't believe it anyway. He's one of their own." Justin glanced toward Brian, obviously embarrassed. "But if you're asking, did I mention him to the police last night? No, I didn't think of it. He wasn't the shooter."

"He's just the guy who set the shooter up." Gareth abruptly shook his head, reminding himself of the oft repeated security maxim - that all clients were idiots. He just hadn't expected Justin to be one of the bigger ones. "More importantly, did you leave anyone else off of it?"

Brian looked grim as he tried to decide who might hate him. "Vance Gardner. I ran him out of business. He's not homophobic, but he's not in love with gays either. Everybody else who loathes the sight of me is gay."

"Can we get a list of them anyway?" Axe interjected, taking back control of the conversation, glaring at Gareth in warning. Gareth nodded once, knowing Axe was right. He needed to stay quiet.

Michael laughed out loud at the thought. "If we include everyone Brian's ever insulted or rejected, it'd most of gay Pittsburgh – the male part of it."

"I don't know," Lindsay murmured. "He's insulted a fair number of lesbians as well."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, guys." Brian smirked at his two best friends from an increasingly pale face. "I can't think of anyone else named Jim."

"We don't take names, remember." Justin grinned slightly at Brian's look of irritation.

Brian looked at Axe, obviously exhausted. "Ask Emmett and Todd – you'll find him at Babylon. If there's somebody else out there with a hate on for me with the name Jim - they'll know who it is."

Axe nodded in understanding. "That's all for now. We'll be outside if you need us." Tank and Axe exited the room.

Gareth held up the papers he had in his hands. "Mr. Schmidt asked me to get you to sign these papers. It's pretty standard stuff, but the company is set up so only you can do it."

Brian groaned softly, lying back more fully in the bed. "Can't Justin sign? He's a full partner and surely getting shot counts as being fucking incapacitated."

"Not the way you two have your agreements structured at this time, however," Gareth responded efficiently, "Mr. Schmidt thought you might say that, sir. Option two is to sign this one and give Justin the authority to sign as a full partner in Kinnetics. That way he can deal with all the paperwork."

Brian grinned, tongue in cheek, as he held out his good hand for the form, quickly signing it. "I know you'll take good care of it for me, Justin."

Justin groaned good-naturedly before murmuring "Shit. I guess I know what I'm doing this afternoon." He leaned down and kissed Brian. "Get some sleep. The mom's will probably be around this afternoon and you'll need your strength."

Brian groaned as he leaned back into his bed. "Can I do the paperwork and you take the women?"


	35. Chapter 35 A Day at the Office

**Chapter 35 – A Day at the Office**

Justin swept into the Kinnetic reception area followed by Gareth and Axe. Smiling at the new receptionist he continued down the hall towards Brian's office. Axe paused outside the office door. "You should be all right here while I take care of a bit of business. Don't leave before I get back."

Justin glanced at the bodyguard with a slight nod. "Any idea how long you'll be?"

Axe glanced over at Gareth for a moment before answering. "No more than four hours. Is that all right?"

Justin nodded. "Not a problem." Glancing back towards Gareth, Justin asked, "Is Ted in? I need to understand exactly what Brian just agreed to with respect to the partnership."

"I'll get him, Justin." Gareth gave Axe a slight nod to indicate he had guard duty and started off down a side corridor towards Ted's office. "I'll be right back."

"Cynthia, how are you holding up?" Justin asked as Brian's beautiful executive vice president came into view.

Cynthia gave a tired smile. "Better now that I can reassure the client's that Brian will recover quickly." A small frown followed the smile. "Leo Brown is the only one asking whether someone is trying to kill Brian. He and Brian are almost friends after all these years. I think he may actually be more worried about Brian than his account."

"Get Brian to give him a call from the hospital." Justin pulled Cynthia into his arms for a hug. She resisted for a moment before giving in and hugging back. "Send everyone else to me. I want him to have time to recover. Can you help me handle things here?"

"At least he can't hide the fact that he's sick this time," Cynthia commented with a small laugh as the two of them headed into Brian's office. "What about your painting?"

"I did some last night. It'll just have to wait for the evenings," Justin responded as Ted came in. "So, Ted. What did Brian just sign?"

"A full partnership for you – equal signing authority on all things related to Kinnetic."

Justin stared in shock. "That wasn't the original deal. It was supposed to be part ownership, no interference."

"I don't think that the original deal factored in getting shot and wanting a couple of days to recover."

"Does that mean I have to call you Theodore now and insult you?" Justin quipped.

Ted grinned in response. "I think you could keep your own management style. I know I'd prefer it."

"Brian's feelings would be so hurt," Cynthia murmured. All three of them looked at each other and then burst out laughing. Cynthia and Ted's laughter stopped after a few moments, but Justin's did not. His laughter took on an edge of hysteria, becoming louder before breaking apart into sobs. Ted and Cynthia stared in shock for a moment before pulling him over to the office' couch and sitting down on either side of him to wait it out. Ted put a gentle arm around Justin and Justin leaned in, appreciative of the comfort and silent support as the tears eventually wound down. Cynthia reached over, grabbed some tissues and put them into Justin's hand.

Gareth came around the corner, saw the situation and immediately exited back out of the office.

"Shit. Sorry about that," Justin murmured after several minutes had passed. "It's just been …." He took a deep breath. "I couldn't lose it at the hospital. I had to stay in control." He gave a sad, quirky smile. "I couldn't be a crying little faggot in front of _that_ audience, Brian would fucking kill me. Last night, I let it all out on a canvas; I used up all my red paint drawing blood on pavement. I didn't sleep. I guess I still had…"

Cynthia interrupted gently, "It's okay, Justin. I'm glad you trusted us enough to let your guard down." She smiled while rubbing Justin's hand gently, watching Ted awkwardly patting Justin's back. "We're here if you need us."

Justin shook his head, collecting himself. "Okay, so what do I need to do next? Brian mentioned paperwork."

Gareth smiled to himself as he listened from just outside the door. He gathered up the paperwork Ted had asked him to collect and walked in with a bright smile. "I found all the documents you asked for, Ted." Pulling a gold pen out of his pocket, he rotated the base to bring the tip out and handed it to Justin. "Here you go, sir. I think you'll need this."

Justin gave Gareth a small, forced smile. "Thank you. Just call me Justin, okay."

Gareth frowned faintly before responding, the humorous twinkle in his eyes offsetting his expression. "Certainly, sir."

Justin gave him a sharp, quizzical glance before turning to the paperwork. "What am I looking at, Ted?"

"First set of paperwork, payroll authorization."

Justin frowned, looking at the forms. "Why doesn't the CFO sign off on payroll?"

"We never got around to finishing the legal delegation of authority," Ted murmured thoughtfully. "We started this way back when I first came to work for Brian." He shrugged with a sad smile. "I hadn't exactly earned anybody's trust at that point – crystal made sure of that. We never changed it."

"That was almost four years ago," Justin muttered to himself thoughtfully. "Could you draw up the normal delegation paperwork for me to sign? I have no intention of spending the next three weeks rubber-stamping your work." He raised his eyes to stare into Ted's. "I think crystal is in the past, don't you?" Justin frowned at the pile in front of him. "What isn't routine in here?"

Ted's eyes glistened for a moment and a gentle smile appeared on his face. He patted Justin's shoulder before reaching down and pulling out one legal document. "Just one, a new contract with Asana Fitness needs to be signed off."

"Once we're done with the contract, we need to deliver on it," Cynthia interjected. "Our art director for the New York office, Bill Sloane, is working on it, along with one of the new artists, Jeremy Arthur." She glanced at Justin for a moment, thinking before continuing. "They're both new employees we've just hired to set up that office. Brian isn't too sure of them yet, so they're still on probation."

Gareth murmured, "I asked them to come up with the storyboards before I brought in the paperwork. They should be here any moment." Just as he finished speaking, a dark haired, rather handsome face appeared around the corner.

"Gareth, are you ready for the storyboards?"

Gareth glanced in query at Justin who looked back with a slightly sardonic expression. "Your timing is impeccable. How did you know I wouldn't insist on reading every single piece of paperwork?" Justin queried.

"I could only hope that such gross inefficiency wouldn't appeal to you, sir." He reached into the folder he held in his hands, pulling out a document, completed except for the signature. "This is a standard delegation of financial authority to the CFO for routine tasks ready for your signature." Placing the document in front of Justin, he waited expectantly.

Looking at the paperwork, Justin gave a surprised laugh before signing and passing the document back to Gareth. "You're certainly efficient, aren't you?"

"One can only try, sir." Gareth's cheeky response brought a smug grin to Cynthia's face as Gareth turned and signaled Bill. "I think they're ready for you now, Bill." As Gareth paused at the door, he frowned before asking, "Where's Jeremy?"

Bill's handsome face formed into a condescending smile, "I didn't think he'd be needed for this and should continue working on the web-site artwork that I asked him for."

Justin glanced between the two men curiously before coming to his feet and walking over to offer his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Bill. I'm Justin Taylor, Brian's partner." Turning to Gareth, he murmured, "I think I'd like to meet Jeremy as well. Why don't you send for him?"

Gareth tilted his head and glanced at Bill before nodding easily. "Of course, I'll just go get him."

Justin held out his hand expectantly for the storyboards, waiting patiently through Bill's initial hesitation.

Bill stared at the too young face in front of him and commented cautiously. "I didn't realize that you were Brian's business partner."

"Now you know," Justin responded simply. "The storyboards, please."

Bill took a deep breath and handed them over. Justin stood at Brian's desk and chuckled at the slogan, "Just for the Health of it," and the accompanying logo; a runner with flames under his feet.

He glanced up at Bill. "How did you come up with the slogan?"

"Like I do most times, I'll be working on something unrelated and it just pops into my head."

Justin pointed to one of the images, "This feathering effect. I like it a lot but I've never been able to achieve it with the software we've got. How did you pull it off?"

Bill stuttered for a moment, obviously caught off guard. "It's easier to just show you the next time you're in the art department."

Justin nodded thoughtfully, staring at Bill before responding. "That makes sense." He turned back to the boards.

At the slight break in the conversation, a slightly chubby young man whose beautiful brown eyes offset a plain face entered. Stuttering slightly, he asked, "You wanted to see me, sir."

"Yes," Justin smiled reassuringly. "Just a get acquainted meeting, really. I was curious how the web design is going for the Asana account."

Jeremy relaxed slightly at Justin's friendly demeanor. With a cautious glance at Bill, he started to talk slowly. "It's really coming along. The trick is going to be to show that they're a lot more than just a yoga studio." At Justin's encouraging nod, the words started to flow more smoothly. "I mean, I know they started that way and that's still really big for them. The owner stressed that, but still. They have all these really excellent fitness activities and product lines. So I've been coming up with the backgrounds and graphics for your web-designer, Bummer."

Bill cleared his throat slightly and Jeremy, looking startled, immediately finished with, "I can show you if you want?"

"Not at the moment." Justin shook his head, momentarily distracted. "We have a web-designer whose name is Bummer?" he asked incredulously.

Cynthia chuckled softly. "His real name is Mortimer Alphonso." At Justin's stare, she nodded. "Apparently everyone who heard when he was growing up said something along the lines of 'That's a bummer," when he introduced himself. Eventually he got tired of it and said 'Why don't you just call me Bummer, then?' as a joke and it stuck." She shrugged her shoulders. "He likes it better than Mortimer."

"I…" Justin started, before chuckling and turning back to his two new employees. "Sorry, guys. Got a little distracted." Turning to Jeremy, he asked while pointing at the first storyboard. "I was impressed by the feathering effect here. What do you think?"

Jeremy's face brightened. "I'm really glad you like it. It took hours to get the look I was after with the software. It's a lot easier with the package from Arcana that I'm more used to working with." He caught his breath, clearly appalled at his own statement and quickly pointing at another image. "Well, the software here does this texturing a lot better than Arcana. It's just a matter of getting used to the new package."

"I know the feeling," Justin heartfelt agreement caused Jeremy to grin. "Every time I change packages it feels like I'm starting from scratch. At least the software didn't affect coming up with the slogan."

Jeremy's grin broadened. "I couldn't believe how long we drew a blank on the slogan, right, Bill?" At Bill's reluctant nod, Jeremy continued blithely. "Thank goodness for an old student web-site I found for a marketing course. It had enough ad ideas; it didn't take long before the brainstorming made that pop right out of my mouth. Right, Bill?"

At Bill's somewhat sickly nod, Justin smiled in satisfaction. "Excellent work, Jeremy. I'll send you some minor changes for the boards after Brian and I both have a look at them." With a firm handshake, Justin ushered Jeremy out with some encouragement. "I'll get back to you with those corrections, soon. Thanks a lot for your good work, Jeremy."

After Jeremy's smiling face had vanished around the corner, Justin turned a laser stare to Bill before stating clearly. "Well, that was certainly informative. Any comments, Bill?"

"No. Jeremy and I are working together on this. What's there to say?"

"Let me think for a moment," Justin murmured softly. "How about - You're fired?"

"You can't do that. Brian hired me."

Justin glanced at Ted, who shrugged as he replied. "He can. Really."

"You wouldn't dare override Brian's decision," Bill enunciated, his good features distorted with anger into something ugly.

"I can usually get Brian to calm down. Besides, I don't think he'll mind," Justin's smile broadened. "I really think he'll approve."

"You'll regret this." Bill sneered as he attempted to find a crack in Justin's smiling façade. "Not only will Brian be furious, but you won't be able to find anyone willing to work with a new company in New York. They had a hard enough time finding me."

"I think we'll manage just fine, Bill and I know Brian won't give a shit. Not only do you steal your subordinates work, you were stupid enough to get caught." Justin raised his voice to a level that could be heard in the outer office, "Gareth. Call security. Bill needs an escort out."

Gareth walked around the partition between the offices, followed by one of the security guards. "Already here, sir." With a nod in Bill's direction, he politely spoke to the guard, "If you could escort this gentleman out."

Justin watched the pair leave then turned to Cynthia and Ted. "I'm starting to see what Brian likes about his job."

Ted lifted an eyebrow before commenting, "He's certainly taught you how to kick out an unwanted trick efficiently."

Justin started laughing, "He is the master." He glanced over at Gareth curiously. "So what's next on the agenda?"

"I believe the artwork for the Tyson Homebuilding campaign needs some refinement, sir." Gareth's face remained somber, but his eyes retained their earlier humor. "It would be an excellent way to efficiently utilize the two hours until Axe's return."

"By all means, let us strive for efficiency," Justin agreed sardonically before following Gareth out of the office with a light wave at Cynthia and Ted.

After he left, Ted turned to Cynthia in surprise. "You know, I didn't believe Brian when he told me Justin could probably run Kinnetic as well as he could."

Cynthia burst out laughing as they walked toward the exit to Brian's office. "How could you imagine that somebody that can play Brian Kinney like a maestro couldn't handle idiots like Bill Sloane?"

Ted paused thoughtfully, "I never thought of it that way."


	36. Chapter 36 Choices

**Chapter 36 – Choices**

Justin puzzled through the update Axe had provided. "So you're convinced the man behind Brian's shooting is Stockwell, but you can't prove it?" Justin asked as he and Axe walked through the corridors of the hospital towards Brian's room.

"That's right." Axe sighed as he opened another door. "We're sure, but convincing the cops is another matter entirely. We don't have enough to meet the legal standard of 'beyond reasonable doubt.' I turned the phone over to one of our computer experts – he downloaded all the data. He's still tracing all the calls. However, he did get a hit on Stockwell right away. The third guy in our little troupe of bashers has been phoning Jim Stockwell quite frequently."

"Shit," Justin muttered. "I can't believe how far gone he is. He used to be the chief of police. Now he's teaching kids to set off bombs and shoot to kill."

"We should be able to monitor for future attacks now. Katy, one of our guards, is planting the phone back in the kids car. It has a bug and a GPS tracker in it. Hopefully, he'll think he just dropped it. After that, it gets easier."

"And we can pass that onto the police?" Justin's puzzled look caused a slight smile to pass over Axe's features.

"We may not be able to," Axe responded truthfully. As Justin opened his mouth to protest Axe cut him off ruthlessly, his voice raising. "Look, our job is to keep you alive. We won't go after somebody without proof, but our threshold isn't 'reasonable doubt.' We just find the fucker and deal with it."

Justin knew he couldn't be hearing correctly as he stopped in shock in the middle of the hall. "You can't just go around k…"

"Of course not," Axe's quickly raised voice drew attention from numerous fronts. His voice dropped considerably, "We're not hit men, for Christ's sake. We just figure out who is after you so we can protect you." Axe shook his head, almost laughing at the relief on Justin's face. "You should have been an actor – you certainly have a talent for drama."

Justin gave Axe a disgusted glance. "You're not the only one who's said that."

Axe's laughter burst free at the muttered aside. As he got his laughter under control, Axe enunciated clearly. "We watch them."

"That's all," Justin demanded, needing to be absolutely sure. "You just watch them."

"What the hell did you expect? We just watch them. Eventually, they screw up and we throw them to the cops. If we know where the attacks are coming from, our job becomes a lot easier."

Justin stopped short and spun to face Axe in the hallway in front of Brian's room. A single eyebrow lifted knowingly.

Axe shifted slightly under the stare before he amended his earlier assertion. "Fine. Once in a while, a very _great _while, we'll inform our employers of possible paths forward to mitigate the risk. Whether or not they take action is entirely up to them."

"Really?" Justin's disbelief rang out clearly in the now empty hallway.

"Really." Axe grinned mischievously before opening the door to Brian's room for Justin. He continued pretentiously, "After all, we _are_ government employees." Axe's smile faded and he looked Justin directly in the eye. "This might be one of those times. There may not be a totally legal way of stopping Stockwell."

Justin sobered instantly and said simply, "Let me know what I have to do." Justin nodded a greeting to Tank before walking through the door into Brian's room. He stopped abruptly at the sight of his agent standing next to the bed. "Jared, what are you doing here? I thought you were in New York."

"I was, but then I heard the news." Jared's smug face seemed wildly inappropriate to Justin given that the news was of Brian getting shot.

Justin glanced at Brian with a raised brow, looking for information, but the only response was a shoulder lifted in a careful shrug. "I'm really touched that you'd come to Pittsburgh when you heard that Brian got shot. It's a bit surprising."

"It would be if that was why I came," Jared retorted evenly. At Justin's quizzical look, he explained with a look of almost childish glee on his face. "I'm here because Oprah called."

"Shit!" Brian exclaimed from the bed, surprise overcoming his legendary self-control.

"She's had a cancellation. The actress scheduled for the day after tomorrow got arrested for DUI." Jared's long dark hair moved into his eyes as he enjoyed the reactions. "She wants Justin to go to Chicago and tell everyone about the bombing, the shooting, the show… everything. A half hour segment!"

After a few seconds of complete and utter silence Justin looked away from Jared to Brian, a frown creasing his brow as he thought. He took a deep breath and released it with a heavy sigh before looking at Jared with a rueful smile. "No," he shook his head softly a moment later. "I'm not going to do it."

Jared's jaw dropped. "_What_?" He moved closer to Justin, his volume increasing as he spoke. "This kind of chance shows up once in a lifetime, Taylor. It'll make your career." Jared was almost yelling, "It's what you said you fucking wanted - a chance to show homophobes what we're all about, to make a difference. How the hell can you just say no?"

"Brian just got shot. I can't leave Pittsburgh right now."

Brian got laboriously out of the bed when he heard Justin's plan, and got on his dressing gown. He leaned on the edge of the bed and speared Justin with his dark eyes.

Jared spared Brian a glance before continuing furiously. "Brian's fine. The doctor's said he'll be out in a couple of days. When I took you on, I agreed to get you chances like this one." Jared moved up, getting into Justin's face. "You agreed to take them."

Justin stared at him through tormented eyes, but with resolution in every line of his face. "I can't do the show."

Jared opened his mouth to continue the argument, but Brian interjected firmly. "Jared, give us a minute, would you?"

Jared threw up his hands in disgust and stepped back from Justin before storming out of the room. His parting comment shot like a bullet as the door closed behind him. "Fix this for Christ's sake!"

Brian leaned heavily against the bed now that they were alone, looking intently into Justin's somber face. Justin stared back defiantly as the silence grew thicker by the second. Justin broke first, "What?"

Brian tilted his head to the side before murmuring softly, "All it takes for evil to win is for good men to stay silent."

Justin grimaced before coming back firmly with a retort of his own. "I don't need you to quote Martin Luther King at me. And you got the quote wrong."

Brian shrugged his shoulder carelessly. "Close enough and I wasn't quoting King. I was quoting you." He paused to let it sink in and then added with a bit of mockery in his tone, "Giving up on the cause, Justin?"

"Fuck the cause."

"Why?" Brian asked softly.

"When did you ever give a shit about gay rights?" Justin shot back and straightened up with a cool smirk. "Let's see if I can remember 'We're queer. We fuck who we want to, when we want to. Anyone who wants to suck up to neutered politicians and bourgeois, conformist heteros isn't representing me.'"

Brian lifted a brow in acknowledgment murmuring, "It's nice to know you listened." He moved from where he was leaning to look directly into Justin's face. "But that's me. This is about you. You were all set to be the Gloria Steinman of gay rights. Instead, I'm thinking of moving to Stepford so you'll feel comfy."

Justin rolled his eyes in disgust. "Don't be an ass, Brian. I just want to focus on my art and getting set up in New York."

"You're giving up." The bold statement had an edge of disappointment to it. Brian continued after a short pause, "- and for the most pathetic of excuses." Brian's voice pitched higher, a mocking mimicry of a whiny child. "Brian's sick. I'm too busy." His voice dropped back to its normal range. He shifted back, giving Justin a bit of space. "You don't even have the balls to say what's really bugging you."

Justin shifted angrily from foot to foot. "Shut up, Brian. You don't know what you're talking about."

Brian leaned forward again, snarling back. "So fucking tell me already!"

Justin exploded, hands going up, body lurching as he leaned into Brian's face. "You got shot! What the fuck do you think happened?"

Brian gave a small, disgusted snort as he leaned back against the bed trying unsuccessfully to hide his lack of strength. "I almost die, so you stop living, Sunshine? Are you going to hide away? Stay out of the limelight." His face twisted into a beautiful sneer as he continued. "Let's just do what's expected, it's safer."

"It _is_ safer, you idiot. How would you feel if it was Gus who got hurt?"

Brian winced at the unwelcome thought before recovering. "Why don't we put him in one of those bubble rooms, protect him from everything? We can keep him perfectly safe." Brian shifted suddenly, moving to stare directly into the tormented, azure eyes of his lover. "Is that what you want for him?" Brian leaned in closer. "That is so fucked up."

Justin stared, momentarily transfixed by Brian's intensity. His entire body shuddered with the effort needed to shake it off. "I am under no obligation to jeopardize the people I love for a cause _you_ don't even believe in."

"But _you_ do," the brunette countered promptly. "Do not use loving me as an excuse for mediocrity." Brian's face hardened as he continued relentlessly in the face of Justin's non-responsiveness. "Cowardice doesn't become you." Justin moved to stare out of the window, anywhere but at Brian. After a moment of silence, Brian went on with a softer look in his eyes. "Besides, it's too late now, Sunshine. It's already done."

Justin turned back to Brian, the unspoken question clear in his eyes.

"You should know by now, Justin. You don't have to be on Oprah to get bashed. Just ask Shandalier." Brian moved in to reach up and lightly caress the scar just under Justin's hairline. "Of course, I wouldn't have thought you'd need reminding of that fact." He gently wrapped his good hand around Justin's neck and touched their foreheads gently together before murmuring softly. "To get attacked, all you have to be is queer."

Justin's eyes filled with tears as Brian hugged him gently. Justin leaned in, breathing in the scent of Brian by burying his face into the crook at Brian's neck.

Brian held on, fighting the pain in his side. He knew he had won this battle and it had been worth fighting. Deep within, however, a part of him was screaming in protest, telling him to shut the fuck up and keep Justin home – and safe.


	37. Chapter 37 How to Clear a Room

**Chapter 37 – How to clear a room**

In the corridor outside of the hospital room, Tank listened to Brian's voice softly murmuring, "To get attacked, all you have to be is queer." When no further words came out of the room, he grinned and turned to Axe with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. "You were right about one thing. These two don't do boring. Which one of us gets to go meet Oprah?"

"I get Oprah." Axe's beautiful, chocolate eyes lit up with laughter at the disgruntled look he received. "I agree; it is nice to work for somebody interesting for a change." His smug smile fell off his face as Gareth rounded a corner, coming towards them with a determined stride. As the younger man reached them, Axe knew something was up from the satisfaction in Gareth's eyes. "What have you learned?"

Gareth stopped immediately outside Brian's door. "We found the shooter. His buddy called him right after he picked the bugged phone back up. The shooter's in a warehouse on the south end of Pittsburgh. We fed him to the cops and he should be in custody within the hour."

"Excellent," Axe murmured. "We've now got Hobbs - our bomber and Lofts - our shooter, behind bars. Neither of them is going to see the light of day for years. That just leaves Stockwell and the other kid, Joe Borden."

Gareth's eyes wrinkled, the gray highlighted by the bright hospital lighting. "Stockwell's behind everything - the shooting, the bombing, everything. We're not going to be able to convict him of anything because conspiracy is always a hard sell and we've got no legal phone records, e-mails or contact. Hobbs isn't talking and I doubt Lofts will, either." He moved abruptly away from Brian's door as he realized his voice was getting louder. Axe and Tank followed him to the opposite side of hallway. "Stockwell's trying to persuade his third acolyte to set fire to Kinnetic."

Axe snorted with disgust. "Stockwell really doesn't care about collateral damage, does he?"

"No. Borden refused - told Stockwell he was done with it." Gareth continued; face grim as he imparted his news. "Stockwell isn't going to stop. He's going to find somebody else."

"Any ideas?" Tank queried softly.

Gareth's eyes hardened as he thought about his new friends at Kinnetic, currently at risk of being burned alive by a madman. "I'm thinking a twisted Capone frame would do it."

Tank stared at Gareth in shock, "You can pull that off?" At Gareth's grim nod, Tank shook his head in awe. "Well, shit. You are good with computers, aren't you?"

"Yes."

The simple statement convinced Tank more than any protestations of competence could have. "How are you going to find the porn?" he asked suspiciously.

"Unfortunately, a previous job gave me access to way too much of that shit."

Axe saw the memories filling Gareth's face and laid a comforting hand on his arm. "What else do you need?"

"Cypher," Gareth said softly, his eyes lighting at the thought of the most complex security software on the planet. It could break into any system and never leave a trace. "If the colonel gets it for me, I'll consider us even. Without it – I might be traced. With it, Stockwell's going down and his cop buddies will do it for us."

"The colonel's not going to be happy," Axe's eyes shone at the thought. "I love it. I'll call him. What else?"

"He's not going to just give the Kid Cypher," Tank protested.

"I think the colonel will help." Axe looked into the stormy gray eyes, "Anything else?"

"About a million cash to make it feasible. Anything less and somebody might smell the trap."

Tank warned, "I don't know what debt he feels he has, the colonel's not going to be able to spring that much for this."

"Shit. You're right." Gareth's brow creased in thought. "I can siphon it off illegally, but somebody might notice. It's too much for Kinney to put up without leaving traces. He's not quite rich enough. Any ideas?"

Tank shifted his massive frame, considering the possibilities. "How about the lady who raised the stink with the agency in the first place? Isn't Tilda Avery richer than Midas?"

Gareth considered the idea. "That might work. There's no way to link her to the mess here and she does seem to care about Taylor. I'll get the colonel to vouch for me and call her."

Axe cut off the conversation, seeing Emmett arriving, accompanied by three older women. "Incoming," he said softly. Gareth glanced sharply down the hallway, nodded to Axe and Tank and took off in the opposite direction from the arrivals.

Tank knocked lightly on Brian's hospital room door, pausing for a moment before opening it. He smiled, brow only slightly arched at the sight of Justin and Brian moving out of a kiss. "You've got company coming down the hall."

Brian frowned at Justin as he started to take off his dressing gown. "I knew this was too good to last."

Justin shrugged, grinning as he helped Brian back into the bed. "Too bad you didn't get shot in New York. Then you wouldn't have all this family to worry about."

Brian laughed with a tongue in cheek smirk. "Not true. You found me a whole new family there, too."

Justin stared at his lover, concerned at the awkward movements. "You do know if you get hurt again because of me, I'm going to fucking kill you."

"Don't worry, Sunshine." Brian grunted in pain as he climbed back into bed. "You might be willing to sacrifice for the cause, but I have no intention of going back into the line of fire."

Justin gave Brian's bandaged test a light rub. "Now why don't I believe you?" He groaned as Joan, Debbie, Emmett and his mother walked through the door. "They didn't come while I was at Kinnetic?"

Brian's lips lifted into a smug smile. "They came, but I told them I needed a nap, so they should come back in four or five hours. That way you can defend me."

"Thanks a fucking lot," Justin muttered under his breath.

Brian burst out laughing, before paling at the sudden pain in his chest. "God, don't make me laugh."

"What the fuck's so funny?" Deb demanded.

"It's hard to explain." Justin caught Brian's eye, threatening payback.

Debbie stared at the two men for a moment before moving into a room and jabbing a long, red, fingernail toward Justin. "You are coming home with me. I don't want you alone in the loft when somebody's trying to kill you."

Justin groaned again, glancing at Brian to see him covering his mouth to stifle a laugh. "Deb, I'm fine. I've got bodyguards."

"The shooter can find you at that fucking loft. Every gay man in Pittsburgh knows where it is." She patted Justin on the shoulder while shooting Brian an accusatory look. "Most of them have been there. But if you're at my place, the bad guys won't know where to look for you."

"That's not true, Debbie." Jennifer moved to put a hand on son's shoulder. "Everyone on Liberty Avenue knows that Justin lived with you for years. It wasn't exactly a secret." Justin shot his mother a look of undying gratitude that turned rapidly to horror as she continued. "He should come home with me. No one would expect that."

Joan snorted softly. "By that logic, he should come home with me. That would be truly unexpected." At Justin's terrified expression and the confounded looks of the other two women, she chuckled softly, sharing a wicked, teasing look with her son. "Just joking, Justin – although you are welcome."

Brian stared in astonishment at his mother, starting in surprise as the hospital room door swung out again and a slightly rumpled Marc Ryan stepped in, filling the room even further with his massive frame.

Justin recovered first. "Marc, what are you doing here? I didn't think you had a hockey game in town."

"An old friend of mine called and suggested I drop by Pittsburgh for a visit. She's not a good person to ignore." Marc moved nearer to Brian, taking in the pale face.

"Who were you visiting, Sweetie?" Emmett asked.

"You probably don't know him – well her. Her name's Marilyn. We got to know each other as kids and have stayed in touch. She suggested I come over here today." Marc smiled at Brian. "I would have dropped in anyway, but I would have waited a day or two to let you recover."

"Mysterious Marilyn," Emmett's incredulous expression was comical. "Mysterious Marilyn asked you to drop by to see Brian. Let me guess – she just read the lines."

Marc grinned at Emmett and said, "You know her and yes, she did mention that God wrote the script." He turned back to Justin. "Aunt Tilda asked me to say hi, too. She wanted to let you know that you can stay at her place until the church is renovated. It has state of the art security." Marc's heart-shaped face relaxed into a beautiful smile at Justin's shocked expression. "I told you. You've been adopted."

Debbie moved into the window's light on the other side of Justin. "I don't give a shit what Aunt Tilda says – whoever she is. Justin's coming back to my place."

Marc chuckled at the thought of Debbie going head-to-head with Tilda. "I should warn you, Debbie. What Aunt Tilda wants, she generally gets. However, her invitation only matters when Justin is in New York."

The door opened again and Lindsay and Gus entered.

"Daddy," Gus yelled as he launched himself at the bed, quickly pulling himself up to assume his rightful place, tucked in at Brian's side.

Joan's eyes filled with tears then closed briefly before whispering. "Daddy?"

"Shit," Brian muttered, looking regretful for one of the first times in his life. "I…" he started before the hospital door slammed open, a still irate Jared standing fuming in the center of the door.

"Well!" the agent demanded. "Did you talk some sense into him? Is he going to do the show?" He looked around the room in surprise at the numbers before grinning wickedly at Emmett, moving further into the room to taking the taller man's arm. "Hey, Emmett."

"Jared," Emmett gave a brief, not terribly flamboyant nod.

"Good to see you again." With the niceties out of the way, Jared once again turned to Brian. "Well?"

"Ask Justin!" Brian's rubbed his brow, trying to soothe the headache starting to form behind his eyes. "He makes his own decisions."

"Here, let me," Marc murmured softly, moving behind Brian to gently massage his temples.

Jared turned towards Justin, frustration evident, and demanded. "And the answer is?"

The door to the hospital room opened again and Gareth entered. He stared, appalled at the crowd of people in front of him, taking in Brian's pale face. "God in the heavens above - What kind of idjits are ya? The man_ just_ got shot." He frowned at the sight of Jared's hand on Emmett's arm; a slight smile coming back as Emmett angrily shook the hand off. Gareth pointed at Brian. "Look at him!"

Everyone turned to stare at Brian who immediately sank into the bed, closing his eyes with a slight groan and trying to look sicker than he felt. Regretful looks appeared on almost all faces. Debbie, watching Brian closely, simply rolled her eyes cynically.

"Daddy," Gus asked softly, his small face concerned as he leaned into his father. "You okay? Did I hurts you?"

Brian gave a rueful sigh, sat up and pulled Gus in closer, still startlingly pale. "No. You didn't hurt me – you couldn't. I'm just tired. Hugging you makes me feel better."

"Really?" Gus' beamed at the thought.

"Really, Sonnyboy."

"Daddy?" Joan's voice broke as she repeated the word.

Brian's eyes moved over Lindsay's anxious face before looking down at his son. Glaring back at his mother, he drew a line in the sand. "We'll talk later, Joan. Maybe we can work something out."

"Maybe! But…" Joan acquiesced in the face of Brian's glare. "I'd like that," Joan nodded, staring hungrily at Gus. "Very much."

"Maybe," Brian stressed.

"That's all very nice," snarled Jared from where he stood glaring at Justin. "But are you coming?"

As the attention of the room shifted to Justin and his agent, Marc moved back in and started massaging Brian's temples again. Brian gave a groan of relief as he continued to watch his mother.

Debbie's irritated voice responded. "What the fuck are you talking about? Sunshine isn't going with you. He's coming with me." She jabbed a sharp, red nail towards Jared's face. "And who are you anyway?"

"My agent," Justin told her, a warning in his tone. Debbie stepped back immediately, momentarily flummoxed.

"Actually, Debbie," Jennifer interjected, "I really believe it would be better if Justin went…"

Justin's voice cut over his mothers, "If Justin went to Chicago."

Brian's head turned sharply from watching his mother watch Gus, face lighting with an overbearing smirk as the room exploded around him, overlapping voices demanding to know what was in Chicago.

"Thank God." The tension left Jared at Justin's announcement.

Justin shot his gloating agent an irritated look as he announced. "I guess I'm going to be on Oprah." Everyone responded at once, making the room sound like a crowded restaurant. Behind Brian, Marc suddenly paled, staggered and almost fell. Emmett, the only one who noticed in the tumult of the Oprah announcement, rushed over to grab Marc and hold him upright.

"Jesus," Gareth muttered under his breath before raising his voice to cut across the room. "Do you people have no sense at all?" At the puzzled looks he received, he tried again. "I'm sure the man's touched you all care so much, but he just got shot." Seeing the continued lack of comprehension, he enunciated clearly while simplifying the problem. "Mr. Kinney needs to rest. You all need to leave."

Debbie looked sharply at Brian, who was watching the scene with interest, then reached out and grabbed Justin by the ear. "You're coming with me. I need an explanation."

Justin glanced helplessly at Brian who sat up in the bed and started laughing. "I'll be back."

Marc straightened away from Emmett, murmuring, "I'm fine, thanks." The two tall men left the room together, Emmett keeping a watchful eye for any sign of faintness.

Gareth watched as everyone slowly left the room. Gus was the last to leave, with a sweet, little kiss on his father's cheek and a promise to come back soon.

As the door closed, Brian leaned back against the pillow and looked at Gareth appraisingly, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Mr. Kinney." Gareth moved to close the blinds, ensuring no one could see in.

"You're no longer on probation. Cynthia was right about you. You're coming to New York. And call me Brian."

Gareth laughed, a slightly wicked little sound. "Certainly, sir."

Brian straightened up in the bed, shifting his weight easily. "Get me Axe, would you? I need to know if they've made any progress on finding the shooter or Stockwell."

"Are you sure you're up to it?" Gareth looked closely at Brian, noting the improved color and lack of pain lines around the eyes. "You do look better."

"I'm feeling much better now that you've managed to clear the room of all my loved ones," Brian responded sardonically.

"They are an interesting and passionate group, sir." Gareth walked out and asked Axe to come in.

"What have you learned?" Brian demanded as Axe entered.

"We've given the police the location of your shooter. We've also linked Jim Stockwell to the shooting and the bombing."

Brian leaned back, satisfied with the progress. "What will Stockwell be charged with?"

Axe, knowing that Brian wasn't going to be happy with his next response, shifted uneasily. "We don't have enough evidence to go to the police and I don't think we ever will."

"Shit," Brian got out of the bed, walking to the closet to rout around in his jacket. Pulling out a cigarette, he lit it up and leaned against the wall, eyes closed. "We can't just let that fucker get away with it."

Axe glanced at Gareth, a question in his eyes. At the positive nod, he laid out the plan for Brian. "Let me explain what a twisted Capone frame is and you can let me know how you like the idea."

Brian's face broadened into a beautiful smile as he listened.


	38. Chapter 38 Getting Better

**Chapter 38 – Getting Better**

Emmett watched Marc carefully as they walked through the hospital's lobby towards the parking lot exit. The younger man's face was still pale from the dizzy spell he'd had in Brian's room.

"Why don't I go get your car?" Emmett watched Marc lean up against the wall and knew he'd been right. Whatever was affecting Marc was still bothering him.

"Thanks for the offer, Emmett," came the gentle response, "but I didn't bring a car. Marilyn dropped me off. He should be back soon to pick me up."

Emmett leaned against the wall next to Marc to ask curiously. "How did you two meet, anyway? A Canadian hockey player and a Pittsburgh psychic?"

"Do you remember when I told you that I was the seventh son of a seventh son and that my mother kept introducing me to psychics?" At Emmett's nod, Marc continued, "Two of the psychics were Marilyn's parents. Only she was a he back then. He was fifteen and I was eight when we met, but we hit it off. We used to think we were the only sane ones in the asylum." Marc chuckled at some fond memories. "Some psychics or wannabe psychics are kind of unique. Marilyn helped keep me sane for a few summers and we've been friends ever since."

"Do you want me to give her a call, sweetie? If she's going to be really late, we could just call a cab for the two of us."

Marc's mood lightened visibly at the thought of Mysterious Marilyn needing a phone call to arrive at the right time. "She tends to know where she's needed. But just in case," Marc fumbled around in his jacket and pulled out a number, "why don't you give her a call."

Emmett got out his cell phone and grimaced at the display. "Hospitals – they always block the signal. I'll have to go outside." He walked towards the exit, moving out of the way of a handsome man in a long dark coat who entered with a blast of cold air. Emmett paused, staring curiously after the man. His trusty gaydar seemed to be malfunctioning. He just couldn't pick up on the man's preferences. That combined with the stranger's physical beauty to make Emmett bounce softly on his toes and wave at Marc, pointing out the stranger. Marc raised a brow in response, checked out the stranger and responded with a grin and a quick thumbs up. Emmett clapped his hands silently and headed out the door.

The dark-haired man quirked a bright blue eye humorously at the thumbs up and walked over to Marc. "Hi, I was wondering if you could help me?"

"I'd be delighted to," Marc responded with a flirty, little smile. He just couldn't seem to help himself.

A suggestive glint and a lifted brow accompanied the soft response. "I do love a man who is ready, willing and…" A hand came out to grab Marc's hand as another dizzy spell hit the taller man and he started to sink down the wall. "Whoa …not so able. Are you okay?"

"Just a bit dizzy, I should get over it in…" Marc broke off suddenly, staring down at the hand in his in shock as the color returned to his face. "I'll be okay in a minute." His eyes lifted to stare into the bright eyes in front of him, momentarily stunned. "What did you need?"

"Did you happen to see a tall guy, black, leather coat with big ears? Probably with a blond girl?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. Up on the third floor, east wing." Marc watched in bemusement as the stranger rushed to grab the elevator, vanishing with a quick wave as the doors closed.

As Marc turned to look for Emmett, he saw Marilyn come around the corner. The transvestite psychic was dressed in a nineteen forties style dress, black with white lace patterning. Even though her four inch heels and perky little hat made her almost reach the height of Marc's six foot four frame, her slighter build and angular features made her look delicate in comparison.

"Hey, kiddo. Sorry I'm late, the fates didn't allow time for parking problems." Her deep voice contrasted beautifully with her appearance. "How did it go?"

"It wasn't just a gunshot wound."

"Oh, no." Marilyn's arms came around the younger man in a sympathetic, spontaneous hug. "Are you okay? Can I help?" As Marc shook slightly in her arms, she pulled back to look at him. "What was it?"

"Cancer – earliest stages. Not even detectable by testing yet." Marc remembered the sinking sensation when he hit the disease. "I got it all, but it wasn't easy."

"Why aren't you flat on your back?"

"I almost was, but I feel much better now. Trauma wounds are so much simpler to deal with. Brian will have a miraculous recovery from the shooting. I couldn't help but overdo that part of it when I was fixing the cancer. Fixing Justin's problem was so easy compared to this." Marc pulled a deep breath, concerned. "I hate it when I mess up like that. The doctor's will probably notice."

"Maybe, but Brian Kinney won't let them run tests on him like a guinea pig. Don't worry." Marilyn looked thoughtful as she remarked. "I'm not sure why fate feels compelled to step in so often with those two. I keep having to nudge things in the right direction. Although curing cancer is more like an earthquake than a nudge."

"It's a good thing we caught it so early or even I wouldn't have been able to help." Marc looked around the hospital, sensing the legacy of pain in the walls. "Let's get out of here. I hate hospitals."

The two men moved toward the exit just as Emmett came back in. "I see Marilyn found you." He looked her up and down and posed slightly, hand on hip with a limp wrist extended. "That is a fabulous dress, darling."

Marc laughed at the look on Marilyn's face as she took in Emmett's tight plaid pants and tangerine top as she said. "Your outfit is fairly spectacular as well, sugar. I sense an astonishing grasp of fashion." Emmett's face lit up at the compliment.

"Thanks for everything, Emmett." Marc nodded in Marilyn's direction. "I'm staying at Marilyn's so I'll be okay now."

"As long as you're sure, sweetie." Emmett leaned in to give Marc a quick hug. "I'll see you around."

"A little something tells me you could use a ride," Marilyn commented dramatically, with a wave of a long red-tipped nail in Emmett's direction. "Why don't you come along and I'll drop you off?"

Emmett clapped his hands lightly together, "I'd love to and maybe you could tell me all this gorgeous young man's secrets." Marilyn chuckled and leaned in to start speaking quietly to Em as the three men left the hospital.

* * *

Justin quietly entered through Brian's door, expecting to find him asleep, only to see his partner resting comfortably checking out the ads in a magazine. "You're looking better."

"I made a spontaneous recovery when everyone cleared out." Brian smirked slightly, "I wonder why?"

"I can't imagine," Justin responded softly as he walked over to Brian's side, kicked off his shoes and crawled easily into the bed with him.

"When are you headed to Chicago?"

"Tomorrow. It's a one day trip. I should be back in Pittsburgh tomorrow night. Jared's planning to go back to New York from Chicago." Justin leaned into Brian's good shoulder comfortably. "Did Axe find anything out?"

"They confirmed it was Stockwell." Brian's tone deepened, "When I fuck up, I really do it well, don't I, bringing that demented bastard into our lives?"

"It's not your fault the guy's gone psycho, Brian." Justin's eyes flashed with anger. "He was the chief of police. Homophobic you could have seen coming, but that he'd turn into a mad bomber?" Justin snorted in disbelief at the thought. "I don't think even Brian-fucking-Kinney could have foreseen that one."

Justin focused on Brian's hazel eyes, seeing the guilt and decided that it was time for a change of subject. "Why did I go to Kinnetik today? There was nothing urgent that needed signing. Ted could have brought it all here. You and I both know that I am not remotely qualified to run Kinnetik. I'm an artist, not a businessman."

Brian shifted slightly on the bed before asking seriously. "How was the work from the art department?"

"Not as good as I remember it," Justin's eyes widened as the realization hit. "You could have warned me what to look for."

"I didn't get a chance to ask you before I was shot. I'm impressed, though. I didn't expect you to solve the problem in less than an hour." Brian sighed with frustration, "They haven't been as creative lately but I couldn't figure out why. My art director quit two months ago and I couldn't get a fucking straight answer out of anyone about the two new guys."

"You didn't know about your New York art director's penchant for stealing credit for other people's work? Didn't he seem too good to be true?"

"I hired the guy because of his rep. I expected him to be good. I would have figured it out eventually but sooner is better. You look like such a naïve little innocent. I knew you could bat those baby blues at them and get them talking." Brian thought of the scene that must have played out at Kinnetik. "I wish I'd seen you cut him off at the dick."

Justin laughed at the memory. "I thought he was going to swallow his own tongue, his jaw was working so fast. I shocked Ted – he still thinks I'm a seventeen-year-old twink."

"Don't be so sure. Ted knew about the problems in the art department. He's the one who took you back to Kinnetik, not me." Brian paused, "He was probably just stunned at the speed you figured it out. Of course, Theodore frequently looks stunned."

"Why didn't you delegate signing authority to him ages ago?" Justin demanded with an abrupt change of topic. "I know you trust him."

Brian grinned, "I would have said yes if he'd asked nicely, but he never grew the balls to ask. I always knew he wasn't quite man enough."

Justin gave Brian a little elbow in the side at the insult to Ted and immediately looked horrified at what he did. "Shit. I forgot. Did that hurt?"

"Not even a little. I feel like I could check out of this place, take you home and fuck you right now." Brian glanced down suggestively at the tenting in his bedsheets. "Last time I protected you I got a hero reward. I wonder what I could possibly get this time?"

Justin took in the suggestively quirked eyebrow and grinned in response. "How about a wall plaque with the bullet mounted on it?"

Brian shuddered at the thought. "No. I don't need a trophy to prove my super-powers. You'll need to come up with a better idea."

Justin's hand moved under the covers and started stroking Brian gently. "We could get Debbie to throw you a party."

"Christ, Justin. You want to make me so sick I can't recover? Talking about Debbie while you're playing with my stiffy could do it."

"Sorry." Justin giggled softly as he felt the stiffy in question get a little less stiff. "Really sorry. I know," he murmured suggestively. "Do you remember when you asked me to go to Meathook with you dressed up as your toy?"

"Of course I do. I think it's the only time you've said no to anything involving you and me fucking."

Justin grinned as he felt Brian getting harder at the thought. "I found a club in New York. I'll go there with you."

"You went looking?"

"Yeah. New York's a big place. There's lots to do there I wouldn't do in Pittsburgh." Justin glanced up to see Brian's eyes darkening with lust. "Of course, there's lots of things I'd do in Pittsburgh that most wouldn't." He licked his lips in anticipation, moved Brian's sheets and clothes out of the way and lowered his head, murmuring. "Why don't we start phase one of your reward right now. You just have to lay back and take it."

Brian arched his back off the bed at the feel of lips surrounding as Justin proved, yet again, that he could provide the hottest blowjobs known to man. "I should get shot more often."

"Do _not_ joke about that."

* * *

Across town, Emmett pranced into Kinnetik's office and asked the receptionist for Cynthia. He made his way to the corner offices and smiled at the sight of the attractive blonde executive. "Cynthia, thanks for setting up the flights. I've never gone first class on someone's ticket before."

"And you'll never do so again if you tell Brian what I did," Cynthia responded with a conspiratorial grin.

"I know the first class was for Lindsay and Gus, but I still appreciated it, sweetie. But I've got a little problem for you to solve."

"What's wrong, Emmett?"

"I'm staying with Blake and Teddy, so I'm happy, but Lindsay is not looking so happy at her parent's house. I'm not sure exactly what those 'oh, aren't we perfect' people are saying to her, but I think we need to get her out of there."

"What about staying at Deb's?"

"Debbie turned one of her bedrooms into a sewing room. That just leaves my old room and it's not big enough for Lindsay and Gus. Mel's also in and out all the time because of JR. She's pressuring Lindsay to stay in Pittsburgh."

"Well, we do have a corporate suite for out of town clients. It's not in use at the moment. I'll give Lindsay a call and offer it to her." Cynthia smiled at the tall man in front of her, "Thanks for pointing it out, Emmett. Brian wants Gus in New York and I know he hates it when Lindsay isn't happy."

"You haven't met her parents. I have. They remind me of my Aunt Clora. That woman would spread misery simply by looking at you." Emmett shuddered, "All those, 'surely you could behave correctly if you tried,' looks. Now, my Aunt Lula taught me that life's too short to worry about being perfect. It's more important to worry about living. She was my favorite." Emmett leaned in and air-kissed Cynthia's cheek. "Well, thanks for taking care of us all. It's definitely above and beyond."

Emmett exited the office with a little wave, but paused at the sight of Gareth pounding away at his computer in the outer office. He wandered over; keenly interested in getting the handsome younger man's attention, but Gareth appeared lost in a world all his own. Emmett's gaze sharpened as he took in the computer monitor. Several windows were open to a wide variety of subjects. Some bank accounts, an encryption warning and most significantly, what appeared to be a police log on the shooting. As he read that they had caught Brian's shooter, Emmett gave a little gasp.

At the sound behind him, Gareth hit a single key and the screen contents vanished, replaced by a standard desktop. Gareth whirled and pinned Emmett with a hard gaze. After a moment of stunned silence, Gareth took a calming breath and gave Emmett a slight smile. "Something I can do for you, Emmett?"

"I was…" Emmett swallowed before continuing. He stared into grey eyes, but not a simple grey. These eyes had flecks of blue in them like the sky on a cloudy day. There had been something in Gareth's look that had given him a gut-level shock. Pulling himself together, Emmett took his courage into his hands. "I was wondering if you wanted to go dancing on Thursday night."

Gareth's face broke into a grin, making him suddenly look younger. "I'd love to."

Emmett smiled back, "I'll meet you at Babylon at ten." As he exited the office, Emmett couldn't help wondering just what he was getting into.

* * *

Later that evening, Justin hung up the phone with a smile. Daphne had been her usual acerbically funny self. Their shared delight at the capture of Jeremy Lofts had left him with a feeling of effervescent happiness, as if the world's colors had brightened momentarily in celebration. He glanced out the window at a night where the lights of Pittsburgh sparkled, casting yellow and orange corona, catching his mood perfectly.

Not able to help himself, he laughed out loud and looked at the blank canvas in front of him. It didn't matter that he had no black left and only a little red. Those weren't the right colors anyway. He turned on the radio to hear a rendition of "It's a Wonderful World". Chuckling at the appropriateness of the selection, Justin picked up his palette and brush and started to paint, a splash of yellow to capture his mood.


	39. Chapter 39 Chicago

**Chapter 39 - Chicago**

Justin stood, observing the organized chaos backstage at Oprah. Thus far, he, Axe and Jared had been escorted on-site efficiently and he had his makeup completed. They were now waiting in the wings for the show to start. He whirled around at the sound of movement behind him.

Oprah stood transfixed, staring at the two paintings in front of her. "Good Lord, are these yours?"

"Yes, you asked us to bring a couple of samples of my work," Justin responded, rubbing his suddenly damp palms on his pants. "I brought these two. I just finished them over the last couple of days. The paint's barely dry." He looked critically at the works in front of him, 'Terror' and 'Joy', the painting he had done the night Brian had been shot and the one from the day the shooter had been taken into custody. Although it made him uncomfortable to evaluate his own work, he knew they were the best he had ever done.

Oprah glanced at him with a slight smile. "Do you always paint two works like this in less than a week?"

"I'm not sure. My hand…" Justin paused, trying to phrase his response correctly. "My hand has gotten better lately, so I'm not sure how much I'll be able to paint. And I was really motivated this week. It's been… unusual."

Oprah gave a small laugh, thinking back to the briefing notes on the young artist in front of her. "I'll bet. How much?"

"Pardon me?" Justin asked.

"How much for the paintings? Are they for sale? They're magnificent."

"Twenty thousand each," Jared's voice came from behind Justin. Justin swirled around in shock at the amount. The most he had ever received for a painting was three thousand. Jared ignored Justin's panicked expression and smiled benignly at Oprah, as if the amount were no surprise at all.

"Done."

Justin spun back around to Oprah, mouth gaping slightly. She chuckled softly, "Don't look so shocked, Justin. They're worth it. Trust your agent." She nodded to both men, "We're almost ready to start. Just wait for me to announce you, Justin and then come on out."

Justin nodded his agreement, still stunned at the speed of the transaction. He watched as four crew members got ready to take his paintings on stage. As the applause died down and Oprah's voice came through strategically placed backstage speakers, he felt his gut clench. He took a deep breath, plastered what felt like a hideously fake smile on his face and walked onstage to shake Oprah's hand.

* * *

In a quiet room guarded by a large uniformed officer whose only job was to ensure that the computer didn't leave, Gareth sat keying in the bank transfers needed. He had the data set up from where he'd been working on it for the last two days – ever since Brian and Justin had given the go ahead to hire someone to frame Stockwell. He smiled to himself as he used the money Tilda Avery had supplied to supplement Stockwell's private account, setting up a series of transfers from a well known Pittsburgh criminal who had died in jail just last year. The appearance of kickbacks and bribes wouldn't be enough to arrest Stockwell, but should annoy law enforcement enough that they kept digging.

As he worked, he contemplated the irony. Like Capone, Stockwell had indeed been guilty of the base charge they were working off of – tax evasion. The inheritance he had gotten from an uncle when he had been in his twenties had grown significantly through investments, but Stockwell had never paid a dime in tax. With the income Gareth was adding to the account, there was evidence of significant tax evasion.

As he wrapped up, Gareth controlled his queasiness as he went into Rashid's best customer's computer. This was the part of the job he couldn't risk without Cypher. Fighting the nausea generated whenever he thought of Rashid and his method of earning income, he transferred the child pornography and buried it in the fake account he had set up for Stockwell. The only thing that kept him from throwing up was the knowledge that Rashid would be was going to be arrested soon. An arrest based upon the information supplied by Gareth himself to Interpol only a few months earlier.

He then went to work ensuring that the dates and times all lined up correctly, showing payment for the pornography, showing Stockwell getting more corrupt and less careful over time. He then set up some standard security on the account, simple enough for the police to break through, but sufficient to make it look real.

Gareth stood up, stretched and chuckled as an image of Emmett popped into his head. He was looking forward to his date. It had been a long time since he'd had one.

* * *

In a hospital room five hundred miles east of Oprah's studio, Brian sat up his bed with Debbie in a chair beside him, watching the show.

"Look at him, Brian. He doesn't look fucking nervous at all," Debbie babbled.

Brian leaned forward trying to listen through the small hospital speakers. "Shh, Deb. I can't hear them."

Debbie obediently quieted down, leaning forward as well. The rest of the family was watching the show at her house, but she'd wanted Brian to have some company on such a momentous occasion.

* * *

In a mansion in New York City, Tilda smiled at John as the Oprah show started. "So Marc has flown to Pittsburgh?"

"Yes. An old friend of his called; needed him for some kind of crisis. Marc isn't one to ignore a friend's call for help."

"No, he wouldn't, would he," Tilda murmured approvingly. She glanced at the television and thought over her decision to wire a million dollars to an offshore account. She looked at the brilliant young man on the screen and knew she had done the right thing.

* * *

Oprah smiled as she moved Justin through the standard introductions, pointing out his work to the audience. It was always best to start with simple questions for nervous guests. After the nerves had settled slightly and the audience had learned who painted the art behind her, she started the real conversation. "I've been told you've had a very interesting few weeks, why don't you tell us about it?"

Justin gave a small laugh, looking up to collect his thoughts for a moment. The story that followed describing the art show, Brian's decision to move to New York, Craig's illness, Hobbs' arrest, the shooting and, ultimately, the appearance on Oprah held both the audience and Oprah herself riveted. As Justin wound down, Oprah asked about his history with discrimination.

The audience remained attentive as Justin recounted his life story, covering bullying, bashing, vigilantism, political activism, bombing and finally the shooting. As he wrapped up the answer, Justin's eyes closed over the sheen of unshed tears. "I don't think I will ever forget the sound of the air bubbling out of his lungs through the hole in his chest. It echoes in my nightmares."

Oprah sat for a moment in silence before asking. "How old are you?"

Justin's eyes popped open and he burst out laughing, caught off guard by the question. "Twenty-three."

"Have you thought about slowing down, living a somewhat less hazardous life?"

"Yes, I thought about it." At Oprah's questioning look, Justin ruefully continued. "I almost didn't come on your show. I got the invitation standing in Brian's hospital room the day after his surgery. I said no."

Oprah looked horrified as a thought occurred to her. "You do know that I asked for you before the shooting, don't you?"

Justin choked slightly on the glass of water he was taking a sip from. "God, yes. That never occurred to me. I know you wouldn't call a trauma room for an interview. It's not your style."

"Why did you change your mind?"

"Brian Kinney." Justin leaned back reflectively in the chair. "I don't know if I can explain Brian if you've never met him."

"The background report I got on him was interesting," Oprah offered tentatively.

Justin erupted with laughter again at the thought of the possible content of that report. "I'll bet. He's led an interesting life. Can I get a copy of that?" At Oprah's nod, he continued. "Brian got out of his hospital bed and demanded answers about why I was backing down. He convinced me that I would regret using his shooting as a rationale to quit."

"He did this the day after the shooting?" At Justin's nod, Oprah queried further, "I'm surprised we haven't heard more of Brian Kinney on the gay rights front if he's that persuasive."

"You misunderstood. Brian never pushes you to get what he wants. He doesn't care about gay rights - it's not an issue for him. But he knows I care. That's why he got out of that bed." Justin's eyes went distant as he thought back. "When I was eighteen, he challenged me to be the best homosexual I could be. Last year, he told me I had succeeded. It was the single greatest compliment I have ever received."

Oprah shifted slightly, indicating a change in subject. "Do you believe that the problems with discrimination are similar for blacks and gays?"

"My best friend, Daphne is black and we've talked a lot about that over the years. I think black and gay discrimination present different challenges. For black people, you can never escape the discrimination. It's obvious based upon physical appearance. That's hard. As a gay man, I could go where people don't know me and there isn't an issue." Justin glanced around the studio and grinned. "Maybe not after this appearance, but you can get away from it, you have choices."

At Oprah's encouraging nod, he continued. "But those choices carry their own price. I don't think a black person will get rejected by their family just because they're black. There is no closet and so there are no decisions about coming out. I can remember friends discussing whether or not to pretend they are straight at their children's school to avoid their children suffering discrimination. Those aren't choices if you're black. It's the same in some ways, but there are a lot of differences."

* * *

As Brian watched Justin, Debbie watched Brian. She pretended to focus on Justin, but every bit of her attention was really aimed at the man in the hospital bed. When the break for commercial came on, she turned with a huge smile. "He's fucking amazing, isn't he?"

Brian nodded, saying nothing.

"I expect it'll be back to New York for him, soon."

"He's coming back for a couple of days and then he'll probably head back to start the work on the church."

"I heard about that. Are there really angels fucking on the ceiling?"

"I think the artist would call it making love."

Debbie gave a sound from the back of her throat, indicating her disregard for the distinction. "When are you heading out?"

"I'm not sure."

"You're not having second thoughts, are you?" Debbie's fears were coming true. Michael had not understood why she wanted to be alone with Brian to watch Oprah. The excuse she had given about not wanting to tire Brian with too many guests was just that, an excuse. She knew Brian. Every time Justin reached a new height, Brian became convinced that Justin would leave him behind.

"Not really."

"Good. Because Sunshine needs you and he needs to be in New York." Debbie smacked her gum lightly.

"Look at him. He doesn't need anything. He's …" Brian stumbled, at a loss for words.

"Yeah. I know what you mean. Who'd have thought that little twink could grow up into that?" she asked, with a nod at the television. "Except you, of course. You always knew he could do anything."

"He can. He's brilliant."

"And you're starting to wonder what he could really want with you, aren't you, kiddo?"

Brian looked at Debbie sharply, not speaking.

Debbie patted Brian's hand as it rested on the cover of the bed. "You ever hear that song by Bette Midler, 'Wind beneath my wings'? where she sings about flying higher than an eagle," she asked. At Brian's cautious nod, she waved at the television. "You're his wind."

"I give him gas?" At Deb's disgusted look, Brian rolled his eyes with an incredulous laugh. "For God's sake, Deb, how lesbionic can you possibly get?"

"I'm serious, Brian." Debbie nodded. "It happens whenever you're together. He started Rage when you were together, left home, fought Stockwell, went to Hollywood. When you're apart, he's not the same, doesn't take the same chances. Look at him. Can't you fucking see it?" Brian's puzzled glance told her he couldn't. She shook her head, patience wearing thin. "He's flying."


	40. Chapter 40 Company

**Chapter 40 - Company**

Doctor Montgomery stared at Brian and Justin, his disbelief obvious. "I have never seen anyone recover so quickly from the trauma of a gunshot wound."

"Good, so I can get out of here?" Brian asked.

"Let me see your chest." The doctor removed the bandage from area of the entry wound, staring in shock at the neatly puckered wound. "It looks ready for the stitches to come out and it shouldn't. You only checked in three days ago." The doctor looked suspiciously at Brian, "Do you always recover this quickly? Is it a genetic trait?"

Brian glanced up at Justin who shrugged his shoulders, bewildered by the doctor's questions. "No. I've had broken bones and just a couple of years ago, cancer. The recovery time seemed pretty normal."

"Which side?" the doctor queried, putting an X-ray up on the wall.

"My right side."

"That can't be," the doctor muttered as he stared at the X-ray. "There's no sign of a fracture."

"Doc, what are you saying? I'm too healthy to leave the hospital?" Brian's voice was quiet, saccharine sweet as he strived for patience. He'd slept well the night before and was more than ready to head home.

"I'd like to run a few more tests before you leave." The doctor turned towards Brian, clearly baffled.

"And look for what?" Brian responded irritably. "Signs of a rapid regenerative process? Or the X gene?"

"But…" the doctor broke off at Brian's raised brow. He thought for a moment and shook his head. "If we could figure it out, it'd save countless people pain."

"I'm not the martyr type."

"You're here because you took a bullet aimed at someone else," the doctor snapped. "Define martyr."

"Taking that bullet was pure reflex. If I had time to think about it, I probably wouldn't have done it and I sure as hell wouldn't do it for anyone except _him."_ Brian smirked as he looked at Justin's expression, "I am not staying to have endless, unnecessary tests run on my insurance to accomplish an ill-defined goal. Sign me out or I'll leave on my own."

"Fine," the doctor signed the release form, clearly annoyed as he passed it to the nurse. "I can't think of a reason to keep you."

"Thanks for everything, doctor," Justin said sincerely.

"You're welcome. If you ever figure out how you healed so fast," the doctor queried Brian.

"I'll be sure to let you know."

After twenty minutes and lots of swearing about the bullet hole in his leather jacket, Brian was leaving the hospital arm in arm with Justin, accompanied by both Tank and Axe. As they got near to the car and cleared the hospital's no phone zone, Justin's phone started buzzing with incoming messages. Pulling it out, he looked at the display and frowned, puzzled by the source of the messages. "That's weird."

"What?"

"Kiki's been calling every few minutes for the last hour." He hit the call back function on the phone and heard a voice announcing "Liberty Diner."

"Kiki, it's Justin. You called?"

"Justin, I love you like a brother, but you have to know that there are only so many shocks a girl can take!"

Brian rolled his eyes impatiently at Justin, who simply shrugged his shoulders as he answered.

"Kiki, what's wrong? What is going on?"

"It's just plain wrong. It's just not right that Brian Kinney would start flirting with me and eating a hamburger and fries. It's just not right. When I couldn't get hold of you, I called Deb." The transvestite's voice spiked even further, "Oh, my God." Then her voice dropped to a whisper, "Do you think the gunshot somehow altered him, maybe deprived his brain of blood or something, Justin?"

Justin stared at Brian, stopping cold in the middle of the parking lot. "Brian's at the diner? Flirting with you? And eating junk food?" At each affirmative sound, Justin's smile started to widen. At Brian's look of incredulous shock, Justin started to laugh, "And Deb's on her way?"

"Why are you laughing?" Kiki's pitch rose to a squeal while still whispering so that 'Brian' couldn't overhear her. "I'm telling you sugar, there's something wrong with him! You have to come and take him back to the hospital. Get him back to normal!"

Justin glanced around the hospital parking lot and responded with a choked voice as he struggled to control himself. "It's all right, Kiki. Just humor him. No shocks and I'll be there to see if he needs to go back to the hospital as soon as I can - about fifteen minutes."

Axe and Tank watched with eyebrows raised as Justin laughed so hard he had tears coming out of his eyes. When he finally could speak again, he gasped. "I think Aiden's in town."

Brian rolled his eyes in disgust. "Aiden is at the diner, acting like Aiden?" Justin nodded, eyes sparkling with laughter. "Damn. He'll be flirting with everything on two legs."

"Don't you flirt?" Tank asked curiously.

"I don't flirt. I fuck." Brian glared at Justin as he laughed even harder at that response. "Let's go before everyone I know thinks I've lost my mind."

"Hold it," Axe interjected. "You've got a lookalike wandering around Liberty Avenue without a bodyguard?" At the blank looks he received, Axe rolled his eyes in irritation, "You want him dead?"

"Shit!" Justin muttered as the realization hit him first. He grabbed his phone and called Kiki back. "Kiki – keep him at the diner. Don't let him leave, no matter what he says." He rolled his eyes at the response, "I know he's hard to stop, but somebody's trying to kill us. I'm on my way – with bodyguards!"

"How much longer are we going to have to put up with this shit?" Brian demanded as he climbed into the back of the car.

"It's almost done. Two of the three flunkies are in jail. The third one quit and Stockwell will be in jail soon. We have a man on him now, so the risk is minimal." Axe's obvious sympathy helped quell Brian's irritation. "The set up work was all finished yesterday. Sometime today, the IRS will start digging into Stockwell's inheritance. They'll start tracing the money, find what looks like bribes and before long the procurement of the child pornography will come to light. There isn't a cop, no matter how loyal they are to start with, that will help Stockwell then. He'll be going to prison for a long time and all of his contacts will turn their backs, even the ones who stuck with him through the indictment. No one likes a pedophile."

Tank entered the conversation from the driver's seat. "Any friends he has in the anti-gay organizations will also vanish. Ideally, both Lofts and Hobbs will be so disgusted by the news, they'll turn on him and he'll be charged with the bombing and shooting as well."

"How long will all that take?" Justin asked. "You guys are great, but I'm sure you've got better things to do than watch over us."

"Not at the moment. It's my job to keep an eye on you. Don't worry, though, we'll give the wheels of justice a push," Axe smiled with a wicked glint in his eyes. "The press will magically get the entire story later this week. That'll push the DA to move faster than he normally would. Stockwell will be in jail within forty-eight hours of the story breaking. The attacks will be over because no one will come near him. I expect an indictment within two weeks. Bail's unlikely on child pornography – high risk of flight. Plus the IRS will freeze his bank accounts until they can figure out what they're owed, so he won't be able to get a good lawyer."

"How do I pay that computer expert of yours?" Brian asked.

"Fund transfer to an off-shore account. I'll send Ted the information. You're incredibly lucky you got him, he's pretty much retired."

"Why did he help?" Justin queried curiously.

"He's gay. The story about Stockwell pissed him off. He's a dangerous man to piss off."

Thinking about everything that was about to happen to Stockwell, Justin could only agree. He was about to ask another question when they pulled up in front of the diner. The scene that greeted him as he entered formed a memory he would treasure for years.

Kiki stood blocking the aisle that led to the main entrance, dodging left and right as Aiden tried to move around her. Debbie stood near the back entrance, watching the action from her position guarding the back door.

Kiki protested in a high fear-filled, yet determined voice. "You can't leave, Brian. Justin said to keep you here for your own safety."

"For the last time, lass, I am not Brian Kinney. My name is Aiden – Aiden Kinney. I'm his cousin and will you let me by now." Aiden caught sight of Justin with Brian close behind him and broke into a huge smile. "About time you got here," he called out. "I need rescuing." Picking Kiki up by the waist, he spun her around so that she was facing the door and he stood with his back to the entryway.

In front of his eyes, Kiki paled as she took in the sight of Brian standing by the door. Her eyes darted back and forth between the two men in shock. She turned a bit green and moaned dramatically, "It can't be. There can't be_ two_ of him. A trannie can only take so much." Her face twisted violently as she unceremoniously passed out in Aiden's arms, causing him to puff out a breath as the weight hit.

Justin and Brian both started laughing at the scene in front of them, much to Aiden's disgust as he struggled not to drop Kiki on the floor.

"Would somebody please help me out here? She's not exactly light as a feather, now is she?"

Both Debbie and Justin hurried forward to help Aiden put the dark-haired transvestite into one of the diner booths. Debbie then straightened up and stared at both Brian and Aiden. "Well, why didn't anybody fucking tell me about him?"

Justin sat down across from where Kiki was being held in place by Aiden, ignoring the ogling men in the diner, whose eyes looked at Aiden as though he was the second coming. "He was in New York and it's been a little bit busy around here." He recalled his manners and did the introductions. "Debbie, meet Aiden Kinney. Aiden, Debbie Novotny, a second mother to both Brian and myself."

"It's pleased I am to meet you, ma'am," Aiden responded immediately as he continued to hold Kiki up. He sent her his trademark Kinney smile. "I'd stand to greet a lady as lovely as yourself, but I'm a bit tied up at the moment."

Brian rolled his eyes, "Stop trying to suck up to Debbie."

Debbie harrumphed, the sound carrying through the suspiciously silent diner. "I like it. You've got some manners, I'll give you that. Who would have thought there could be two of you?"

Brian slid in beside Justin. "One day, God decided to be kind to all of humanity and clone me."

Aiden pulled off the sunglasses he'd been wearing and smiled. "Not quite cloned, I'm afraid. The eyes are a bit different."

Staring into the brilliant emerald eyes, a striking contrast from Brian's stormy hazel ones, Deb nodded in agreement.

"What are you doing in town?" Justin asked.

"Aileen made me come. Said that if we have a new cousin who's for getting shot, the least we could do is keep an eye on him." Aiden's smile broadened. "I'll admit to some curiosity myself – wondering what you two are like on your home turf." His smile faded, "And then there's your roommates, Justin."

"My roommates?" Justin asked. "What about Eric and Ari?"

"I had to get away for a bit. The two of them are fair to driving me mad. They can't tell if they want to be together or with me. Nor can I, they're such attractive specimens, the two of them."

"Why don't you just fuck them both together? That'd be hot," Brian offered.

Debbie appeared mildly irritated at the thought. "That's your solution to everything, isn't it, Brian. Just fuck 'em and move on."

"I didn't say he had to move on. Threesomes can work." Brian glanced over at Justin who shook his head, eyes laughing.

Aiden looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head abruptly. "Well, I've made no promises to anyone in New York, so I think I'll just look for a good time here in Pittsburgh." He looked Brian over carefully, "That is, if you're up for it, Bri. I know you just got out of the hospital, although I must admit, you're looking pretty good for someone who was just shot."

"I feel great. Why don't we hit Babylon tonight?"

"Brian," Justin protested, "don't you think you should get some rest."

"I wouldn't miss Aiden's introduction to Babylon for anything. Not even deviant sexual favors."

Justin eyes twinkled as he leaned back in the booth and regarded Brian, noting the normal complexion and the easy way he moved. "I've got a new outfit." At Brian's raised brow, Justin smirked. "There could be chocolate sauce…" Justin paused for a moment, "and whip cream."

Brian glanced back and forth between Justin and Aiden before deciding. "You'll do edible Justin anytime – you're easy that way. I'm going to Babylon to introduce Aiden to the happy denizens of my realm."

Kiki groaned slightly as she shook herself awake. She looked between the two Kinney men again, gave a small yelp and jumped out of the booth. "There are two of them!" Glaring at Justin, she demanded, "Why didn't you warn me?"

"Would you have believed me?"

"I would have," said Debbie from where she stood. She glanced around the diner, taking in the stunned, speculative looks. "This should be good. Gay PA is never going to be the same."

* * *

_*A/N - I hope you all like Aiden. If you have any good ideas for an Aiden/Brian scene, drop me a line or a review or something._


	41. Chapter 41 Babylon

**Chapter 41-Babylon**

Brian slung his arm easily around Justin's shoulder as the two of them led Aiden toward Babylon, bodyguards following behind.

Justin smiled up at Aiden, "I called Michael, Ted and Emmett. They're all coming tonight along with dates and significant others."

"Who's Emmett bringing?" Brian asked.

"Gareth." At Brian's mildly irritated look, Justin defended Emmett. "It makes sense since they'll both be moving to New York."

"Honeycutt always notices a well-hung top," Brian grinned at the thought of the two dancing. "This should be entertaining, Gareth's a little formal compared to Emmett."

"Everyone's a little formal compared to Emmett," Aiden commented. He glanced down at the borrowed black leather jacket and black jeans he was wearing. "Are you sure you want me looking this much like you, Bri? No one will be able to tell us apart."

"That's the whole point," Brian said, smirking. "I want to see their faces when two of me walk into Babylon together."

The line of men that circled around the front of the club gave the publican in Brian a strong sense of satisfaction as the three men started strolling to the front of the line. Silence fell as the men waiting caught their first clear vision of Aiden and Brian walking together. As the trio moved by, whispered comments could be heard. As Brian and his party neared the door, a particularly brave bear yelled out, "Hey, Kinney. Since when do you have a twin?"

Brian whirled around with a condescending smirk to face the man as he stood near the front of the line. "Good evening, Tony. He's not my twin. See you inside."

Justin elbowed Brian lightly in the ribs as the bouncer opened the door. "Why didn't you just tell them he's your cousin?"

Brian gave Aiden a conspiratorial grin, "Speculation is half the fun. I can't wait to hear the heights the rumors take this to. I bet we hear at least one clone theory before the night's out."

Aiden burst out laughing. "I'll take that bet and raise you an elfin changeling rumor."

Justin shook his head at the two men, enjoying Brian's pleasure in his new family member. "All right, I'll go with the wannabe who had cosmetic surgery to turn into Brian."

Aiden paused in the door as his first sight of Babylon hit, the thumpa thumpa surrounding him with a wall of sound that knocked him back on his heels slightly. "Nice place you have here, cousin. It's a bit more lively than the pub."

"It's home," Brian responded.

Justin bounced up on his toes slightly. "Come on, let's dance." He reached out a hand per Kinney and pulled them out on the dance floor. As the three of them started moving together, Justin pulled Brian in and Aiden hugged the pair tightly from behind Justin. Axe moved to the wall near the bar and kept an eagle eye on surrounding crowd while Tank went up to the end of the catwalk for a better vantage point. Both men had on headsets linked in to club security.

All around them, the murmuring started. A circle grew around the trio as men stopped dancing to watch the sight of Justin Taylor in the middle of a Kinney sandwich.

Part way through the dance, Justin couldn't help but notice Aiden's very physical response. Before he could comment, Aiden pulled back slightly with an apologetic smile for his cousin. "Brian, I wouldn't mind a drink to cool off."

Brian raised a knowing eyebrow and with a quick glance down Aiden's front, grinned. "Let's head up to the catwalk and check out who's hot."

Moments later, the threesome stood looking down over the crowd, followed closely by Axe. Aiden kept pointing out men he found interesting and listening to Brian and Justin's description of how good they were. Noting Brandon on the dance floor, he asked. "What about that one? He looks hot."

"Uh, never had him," Justin answered, glancing at Brian out of the corner of his eye.

"Not my type," Brian responded.

Aiden, catching an undertone in his cousin's voice he couldn't explain away, gave Justin a quick glance. At Justin's negative shake of the head, he sighed. "Well, if you both know him and didn't want him, what about that one?" He pointed out a tall brunette near the side of the floor.

After both Brian and Justin acknowledged that they hadn't had or rejected the trick, he grinned. "That'll be the one for tonight then."

Brian leaned in to say, "He's a top. I can tell."

Aiden looked puzzled at the comment for a moment before realization dawned. "Don't tell me you limit yourself, Bri. I'm a bit disappointed. A true Kinney likes sex no matter the form. Top, bottom, male, female. It doesn't matter, now does it?" At Brian's eye roll, Aiden patted him on the shoulder. "Well, you've made up for that lack with your strong showing with the men. I guess you can you call yourself a Kinney, but still… You should consider broadening your sexual horizons."

As Justin laughed, Brian watched his cousin go down and with an easy move, insert himself in front of the man he wanted. Heads throughout the club swiveled between Brian and his lookalike as Aiden moved in. Breaks in the dancing could be seen moving around the club as people pointed out both Aiden and Brian to those next to them.

Brian pulled Justin in close to speak, "At least he's not a loser."

Brian watched as Brandon's gaze followed the pointing fingers to both himself and Aiden. As Brandon moved in Aiden's direction, Brian straightened from the rail where he was leaning, torn. He didn't want Brandon to fuck his cousin, but couldn't think of a good reason to stop it. As he observed the meeting between the two men, his face broke into a rare smile as Aiden shook his head slightly and moved back to his original choice.

A few moments later, Michael walked into the club with Ben. Spotting Aiden, he walked over and tapped him on the shoulder. Speaking to be heard over the music, Michael said, "Come join us upstairs when you're done." He pulled Aiden's head down for a quick kiss in greeting. Aiden was only caught off guard for a moment. He pulled his head back, looked at the stranger with surprise. Then, with a light shrug of his shoulders, he pulled Michael back in for another kiss. That kiss instantly hit incendiary. Ben, moving deliberately, reached out and pulled Michael away, a look of severe irritation replacing his typically calm demeanor.

Aiden's bright green eyes sparkled as he took in the pair. He pointed up to the catwalk where Brian and Justin stood watching them. Ben and Michael's heads turned in unison as they took in Brian's form before swiveling back to Aiden.

"Who are you?" Ben demanded.

"Aiden Kinney," Aiden then continued with a suggestive little grin in Michael's direction, "at your service… anytime."

Michael shook his head in amazement, reached out one hand to pull slightly on Aiden's cheek, checking to see if it was real. He then turned to Ben, mouth agape.

Ben chuckled, having figured out what was happening and put a gentle arm around Michael's shoulders. "Let's go talk to Brian." He then led Michael away from Aiden, who happily turned to continue dancing.

"So, Mikey," Brian quipped as the pair approached him, "is he as hot as me?"

"Who the hell is that, Brian?" Michael demanded.

"My cousin, Aiden," Brian responded, "and you didn't answer my question."

"Why didn't I know you had a cousin?"

"I just found him," Brian retorted, grinning at his friend's irritation.

Michael's mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to think of a response. Ben leaned forward towards Brian, "How are you feeling? I'm surprised to see you out already."

"According to the doctor, I've made a miraculous recovery." Brian shrugged easily, "I feel great."

"Check it out," Justin called out pointing to the right side of the dance floor.

Brian turned to see Gareth and Emmett dancing, noting Gareth's black shirt and tight jeans as he moved easily with Emmett. "Gareth's hotter than I thought."

"Emmett certainly outdid himself tonight," Ben commented. All four men took in Emmett's see through shirt, tight indigo pants and eye makeup. "He looks great."

"If you like spandex and sparkles," Brian said derisively as his eyes continued to pan the crowd below. "Damn!" Brian stood suddenly upright as he stared at the dance floor in shock.

"What is it?" Justin asked. "Brian!"

"I'll be back in a minute." Brian abruptly left his friends and moved down the staircase to the dance floor, moving easily through the crowd until he stood next to a young man in his late teens. "Hello, Jim. Does your daddy know you're here?"

Jim spun away from his dance partner to look at the tall man standing behind him. "Mr. Kinney…" Jim stuttered, terror in his eyes. "No, he doesn't know I'm here."

"Don't worry," Brian said with a conspiratorial smirk. "I'm not about to tell Jim Stockwell his oldest son likes to take it up the ass."

Jim looked around in panic. "Be quiet. Nobody down here knows who I am. My father isn't popular on Liberty Avenue."

Brian nodded understandingly. "Your father's a homophobic asshole." He pulled Jim Jr. in and started dancing. He thought for a moment, wondering about the timing, "How long have you been coming down to Liberty?"

"About six months," Jim Junior tilted his head slightly to the side. "It's my first time at Babylon. Why?"

Brian heaved a deep sigh. "Nothing. Just wondering what your father's reaction would be if he knew."

"He loves me, but still - not good," the younger man replied.

"That would be an understatement," Brian agreed. "If you ever need help, go to the diner on Liberty Avenue and ask for Deb. If she can't help, she knows how to get hold of me."

Jim nodded, obviously not believing that the help would ever be needed. "Thanks, Mr. Kinney."

"Call me Brian, kid." Brian moved away and returned to Justin's side.

"Who is that?" Justin queried.

"Jim Stockwell, Jr." At Justin's look of horrified comprehension, Brian nodded. "He started coming down to our little homo part of town about six months ago. He doesn't think his dad knows anything."

"That explains everything." Justin looked down at the younger man. "Poor kid. His father knows. Pretty soon he'll know how bad it can get." Justin's eyes clouded over with memory. "Sometimes I …"

"What?"

Justin's eyes filled with emotion, "Sometimes I wish I still had that kind of innocence."

Brian turned for a moment to stare at the young man on the dance floor whose world was about to be shattered. Turning back to Justin, he reached out and gently touched his cheek, smiling sadly. "For what it's worth, sometimes I wish you could too."

Justin shook off his introspective mood and moved in to embrace Brian with a smile. "Then I come to my senses and realize that I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." Brian closed his eyes and pulled Justin in close – feeling the exact same way, but didn't say anything so it wouldn't turn into a lesbionic moment? Or something like that.

On the dance floor, Emmett had his arm up and was happily dancing when he felt an arm come around his waist and spin him around. A slightly inebriated Drew Boyd stood there, grinning. Emmett smiled in response, but gave a small negative shake of his head and turned back to dancing with Gareth.

Drew's grin faded and he reached out and turned Emmett back around by the shoulders. Emmett frowned and leaned in to say as quietly as the Babylon music would allow, "I'm with someone else, Drew." He then turned back to dancing with Gareth.

Drew frowned at Gareth and wrapped his arms around Emmett's waist and pulled him back into an embrace. "It's my birthday. I've grown up."

Emmett's look of surprise was enough for Gareth to move in. Gareth moved Drew roughly out of the way and positioned himself between Drew and Emmett protectively. "He's dancing with me."

Drew looked at Emmett and raised a brow, "Are you?"

Emmett glanced at the two men, thinking about Drew's statement, his plans to move and the building danger in Gareth's eyes. He shifted so that he stood between the two men and said firmly. "I am."

Drew's stormy glance raked over Gareth's slighter frame contemptuously. "Emmett, you can't be serious. You're choosing _him_?"

Emmett reached out to hold Gareth, noting the tension in every muscle, the fisted hands and the weight shifting so that Gareth stood balanced for attack. Emmett swallowed at the look in Gareth's eyes and moved so that he was staring into them, his back to Drew and his right hand on Gareth's chest. "Let's head out." With a quick look in Drew's direction he said simply. "Goodbye Drew."

Leaving Drew standing on the floor, Emmett took Gareth's hand and quickly pulled him out of Babylon to the street outside.

On the walkway, Tank moved to where Axe was standing. "Did you notice?"

"You saw it too?" Axe looked grim as Tank nodded. "Emmett was more worried about the football player than the office boy - which he wouldn't be if he didn't know something he shouldn't."

"We need to find out what Emmett knows." Tank glanced around the club, taking in the security details. "This place is pretty safe, barring another bomb. I'll stay with the Kinney's and Taylor. Go."

Axe nodded and followed Gareth and Emmett out to the street. Seeing the two men talking at the corner of Babylon, he moved toward them, speaking loudly. "Hey, Kid."

Gareth looked up, frowning. "What?"

"We might have a problem."

Axe's grim expression caused Emmett to give a little shudder and move in closer to Gareth. "What's wrong? Are Brian and Justin okay?"

Axe relaxed his frown a bit. "They're fine. You looked a bit worried about the football player in there."

Emmett gave a little shrug. "We may not be lovers anymore, but I didn't want him hurt."

"I understand." Axe raised a brow at Gareth.

Gareth saw the direction Axe was going and moved away from Emmett. "I would have thought you'd be more worried about me, he's a big guy."

"I know you can take care of yourself," Emmett grinned.

"How?" Gareth's flat voice, full of dark overtones caused the hair on Emmett's arms to stand up.

"What do you mean?"

"How did you know I'd win the fight? You've never seen me fight."

"I know some things," Emmett commented teasingly. "I know you can take care of yourself and about Rashid..."

A split second after the name Rashid left Emmett's mouth; Gareth's right arm came up, slamming Emmett back against the building with a switchblade pointing at his neck. "How do you know Rashid?"

"I don't," Emmett burst out in a terror filled voice. "I've never met the man, only heard you talking about him."

Axe's hand came up and applied a gentle downward pressure on Gareth's arms. "Easy. Let's hear what he has to say."

"What did you overhear?" Gareth demanded, stepping back with the blade held ready at his side.

"I heard you talking about not wanting Rashid to find you, your sister and taking care of Stockwell. I didn't mean any harm, honest!" Emmett put his two hands out, palms up in a calming gesture.

"You need to forget you ever heard it," Gareth said stonily. He waited for Emmett's agreement before turning to leave. "I'll walk you to your car."

"No need." Emmett almost babbled as he danced nervously away from Gareth. "I'll be fine alone. As a matter of fact, I'd prefer it. And I don't have a car anyway."

Axe looked at Gareth as he watched Emmett leave. Gareth said tersely, "Take care of him," before turning and walking away.

"Shit," Axe muttered and ran to catch up to Emmett. "Wait a second." Emmett kept moving and Axe reached out a hand and pulled him to a stop.

"What?"

"He's a good man," Axe said simply.

"He had a knife to my throat! A knife!"

"With reason. Rashid…" Axe paused, considering what to say. "I can't tell you what happened, it's his story to tell, but let me just say that he has every reason to react like that when Rashid is mentioned."

"He could have slit my throat by accident," Emmett continued in full queen mode.

"Not a chance," Axe retorted. At Emmett's raised brow, he amended slightly, "Not by accident, anyway."

"You mean he's killed before. As in at all?" At the silence received in response, Emmett threw up his hands, paced and muttered. "He's dangerous. I need to tell Brian he's hired a psychopath."

"No!" Axe tried again. "Keep in mind that you only know what you do because Gareth is trying to save two of your friends' lives." As Emmett shook his head, indicating that that wasn't enough, Axe came to a decision. "You cannot blow his cover. You're going to have to get the rest from Gareth, but you need to understand something. Before he found Rashid, Gareth had two sisters." At Emmett's questioning look, Axe continued intensely. "Now he only has one. You don't have to date him, but you can't tell anyone about him. Understand?"

Emmett stopped pacing abruptly and stared thoughtfully in the direction Gareth had gone. With a single nod to Axe he turned and headed off into the night.

Inside the club, Justin was watching Aiden pull his trick into the backroom when the room suddenly felt too loud, too uncontrolled, too bright. Starting to breathe heavily, he grabbed Brian's hand and pulled him into the manager's office. Brian looked into blue eyes darkening with lust and something darker, more elemental. "You okay?"

Justin shook his head, almost frantic, "No, I'm not. I need…"

Brian reached out and pulled him in close, trying to soothe him. After a moment, Justin pulled free and said again, "I need …"

Staring into the blue eyes, Brian knew something had gone very wrong. "What do you need, Justin? What can I do?"

Justin stared into hazel eyes for a moment before realizing he was still feeling the aftereffects of the shooting. "Nothing, just let me…"

"Okay," Brian continued cautiously. "What do you need to do?"

Justin let out his breath with a shuddering gasp. "Prove to myself that you're here." Reaching up to start frantically unbuttoning Brian's shirt, he kissed the exposed skin, muttering, "That you're still alive."

Ripping the shirt free, Justin pushed Brian back onto the chaise. As Brian lay down, Justin reached down and quickly pulled Brian's pants down, stripping him. The sight of Brian naked lying on the couch stopped Justin in his tracks as he stared at the beautiful body displayed before him. The frantic movements vanished, the sight of Brian calming Justin's nerves.

Reaching out a gentle hand, Justin touched the bullet hole, the new mark on Brian's body, learning its texture, letting it sink in through his fingers that Brian had been permanently harmed saving his life. Taking another deep breath, Justin leaned down and kissed the scar, learning the feel of it with his lips.

Brian reached down to pull Justin up for a kiss, only to find that his arms had been grabbed and held. Justin's face came up and stared down into Brian's half-shut eyes, "Shhh. Leave it to me. Lay still." Letting go of Brian's hands, Justin cupped his lovers' face in his hands and reached down for that kiss, drowning in the sensations.

Justin moved down and lightly touched Brian's side – along the rib cage under the arm. Brian jerked slightly; his skin was so sensitive there. Justin smiled at his lover and continued to caress, moving hands, lips, fingertips, slowly up and down Brian's body.

Brian watched wonderingly as he felt Justin's emotions spill out of the soft, sensual touches. "Justin, what are you doing?"

Justin smiled with a slight laugh as he slid up Brian's body, touching every inch that he could with his own. "Loving you."


End file.
